#I’m gonna eat this game like a fine five course meal the second it drops

[medusas-rockin-tits]

Oh SUPERGIANT GAAAAAAMES

SUPERGIANT GAMES YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE~

The Hades II gameplay?? The art?? The everything??????

To the whole dev team, c’mere and let me kiss you directly on the mouth

Oh she’s gonna be an absolute beauty

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[janetbrown711]

"My head hurts" - Dot

There were three things Yakko hated most in the world: King Salazar, moving ‘homes’, and winter. 

Yakko’s hatred of Salazar was clear: he was responsible for where they were now. It was his fault they were homeless orphans in a town that was going progressively downhill. He was raising taxes without a thought about what it was doing to the citizens. It drove Yakko insane, especially since this tax went down to the smallest child. Every time they earned just enough money for a new blanket or maybe a warm meal made by someone else for once, it was taken away by that stupid baron Thaddeus Von Plotz. 

It was because of King Salazar that the stores and shops kept shutting down, and reopening just to shut down again.  It made it especially hard for them to find a stable place to live. Just when they’d get settled into an abandoned jewelry shop, policemen would come and tell them to scram and that some other shop that was doomed to fail was replacing it. 

The worst part about changing ‘homes’ was how difficult it clearly was for Dot. Wakko was usually gone during the days, trying to find odd little jobs to do around the town, or hunt for rabbits for them to eat for dinner if they didn’t have money to buy food. Dot, however, was just five years old now. She didn’t have any memories of their parents, or even of the orphanage. Yakko spent his days with her, trying to teach her to read and write with what he had around, or playing her silly games, but with her hanging around “home” so often, she always got just too attached right before they’d have to move again. She always looked so heartbroken as she looked back and said goodbye to the building. 

Winter. 

Yakko hated winter a lot, it was in a close second to King Salazar. It snowed a lot in Acme Falls, and Yakko was thankful they had fur, or else all of them would’ve caught hypothermia by now.

Winter’s were especially hard when they had to move around. Sometimes there weren’t buildings and they’d have to spend the next few days in the alleys. That was when they were practically guaranteed to get sick. It was never too serious, and they were usually just cases of flu that lasted a few days before going away. Yakko had a tendency to be a ‘worry-wart’ in the words of Wakko, which he couldn’t deny. He just... couldn’t afford to lose them. 

“Yakko, when is Wakko coming back?” Dot asked, holding a very worn out rag doll Yakko had gotten her for her third birthday, before the taxing would’ve made it impossible. 

“He’ll be back soon,” Yakko said, as he looked through what food they had left to see if they could have lunch today. Dot frowned a little. 

“Y-yakko my head hurts,” Dot said. 

“Go lay down, I’m sure it’ll go away,” Yakko brushed it off. Dot tended to exaggerate things when she wanted attention. It was probably just from hunger- not that Yakko could blame her, but it was nothing lunch could hopefully fix. 

“Okay... I’ll go lie down,” Dot nodded and went to their bed, which was really just a pile of blankets on the floor, and curled up into a ball. Yakko frowned at that, but shrugged it off again. He really did need to relax more, he always got so wrapped up in his own head, and it never did anyone any good. 

“It’s just because she’s hungry,” He thought to himself. Yakko returned to the food and sighed. Hopefully Wakko could make more than a ha’penny this time because they were running low on bread. 

Still, something was off with Dot today so it was probably best to have at least a little something to settle her over for now. Hopefully, they’d be okay...

Yakko wasn’t surprised when it started to snow outside. He muttered to himself as he got the materials for a fire and set them aside to do later. Hopefully, it wouldn’t snow too much, or else they’d be able to make snowmen with how many holes were in the ceiling. 

“I’m back!” Wakko announced as he re-entered the small building. 

“Took you long enough, what do you have?” Yakko asked. 

“I was lucky and got myself three ha’pennies today,” Wakko beamed with pride. Yakko did his best to be happy as well, but, well- ha’pennies weren’t exactly as valuable as Wakko believed. Still, it could buy them a little more food, which meant Wakko didn’t have to hunt and could play with Dot like she wanted. 

“That’s good Wak. We can buy some more bread with that and have some for dinner,” Yakko said. Wakko nodded happily. 

“Look Dot! I got three- is she okay?” Wakko went to brag to his little sister, but quickly dropped his attitude. 

“Her head hurts, I’m sure it’s just because she’s hungry. She hardly ate yesterday,” Yakko stated. 

“Neither did we and we’re fine,” Wakko frowned. 

“We’re bigger than she is, it means more to her than us,” Yakko sighed and shrugged. That detail did bug him, but he had other things to focus on for the moment. He shivered as he felt the building shake as harsh winds began to mix in with the snow.

For instance, he had a fire to start.. somewhere. 

It was really hard to start fires in places that didn’t have an oven. If it hadn’t been snowing he would have tried outside. Still, he had collected rocks, sticks and had even gotten some firewood and it was cold enough to warrant using it. Even though he hated it most times, he was glad for once the floor was dirt and not wood. 

As he started pilling the wood, he felt his younger brother hovering around him curiously. Yakko chuckled at that. He had been doing that since he could walk; some things never change. 

“If you want to help start the fire, you can just say so Wak,” Yakko grinned. Wakko, not one to be embarrassed easily, beamed, and picked up the stones Yakko had gathered days before and started putting them in a circle around the fire. Yakko didn’t really know why people did that with fires, but it made them look nicer and it made a clear barrier Dot and Wakko knew not to cross.

“Eventually, they had gathered everything around. Yakko grabbed the box of matches they had, and did his best to hide his frown as he realized they only had four left. 

“Better make them count,” He thought, sighing aloud. He of course could’ve tried the old fashioned way, but those fires tended to end poorly, and usually gave the ever impulsive Wakko ideas. It was simply better to use matches. 

Finally, the fire had been lit and Yakko felt himself sigh a breath of relief mixed with tiredness. Who knew it was utterly exhausting to have to raise a five-year-old, and an eight-year-old when you were only eleven-almost-twelve. He grabbed their bag of food and handed Wakko a piece of bread and some grapes before standing up and going to Dot. 

“Hey Dot, we’re eating lunch now and-” Yakko paused when he noticed how damp her fur looked. He looked up and frowned when he saw that there wasn’t a hole above her that would’ve caused snow to fall on her. 

Then she coughed. 

It wasn’t a normal cough, it was loud, it was messy, and it was long. 

“D-dot? Are you okay?” Yakko asked, trying to hide his panic. Dot shivered and clutched the blanket around her tighter. 

Oh god- this was bad. This was really really bad. 

“Wakko, where did you put your ha’pennies?” Yakko asked, turning to him. 

“Right here- what’s wrong with Dot?” Wakko said, his ears lowered in worry. 

“We have to take her to the doctor- Now.” Yakko stated. 

“Now? Is she okay?” Wakko looked much more frightened. Yakko never took them to the doctor for anything unless he felt it was serious (like when Wakko had broken his arm hunting once). 

“Y-yak-” Dot had tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse. Yakko cringed as he picked her up. She suddenly felt a lot lighter than she had before. 

This was really really bad. 

“Don’t say anything Dot, it’s gonna be okay,” Yakko said, stroking her head softly.

However, the universe seemed to be out to prove him wrong as the door swung open and snow and fiercely bitter winds broke into the small place and immediately put the fire out. 

So much for making the most out of that match.

Yakko shook his head, he didn’t have time to focus on that, Dot was sick. Really sick. He needed to get her to a doctor asap. 

“Stay here Wak, it’ll be safer in here than out there,” Yakko said. Wakko shook his head profusely. 

“I wanna go with you. We need to stick together,” Wakko insisted. Yakko looked at him and couldn’t help but be reminded of that night five years ago...

Yakko shook his head to snap himself out of it. “Fine, but hold onto my tail. I can’t lose you in the storm,” Yakko said, and was relieved when Wakko didn’t protest. Finally, he sucked in a deep breath for strength and headed out into the storm for the doctors.

Yakko usually forbade his sibs from walking during a snow storm for very obvious reasons. One, they could get frostbite or hypothermia or just get really cold; Two, the roads were covered in ice and they could easily slip and hurt themselves; and Three, it was just generally a really bad idea. 

That didn’t stop Yakko though. He was on a mission and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t hesitate to take off his own coat and wrap his little sister in it. If it weren’t for the direness of the situation, he would’ve laughed at how it engulfed her. 

He kept marching on. 

The walk was a lot longer than Yakko expected, but with the snow piling up and the weight of carrying his sister and feeling his brother’s pull on his tail, plus the lack of visibility were all making it a whole lot more difficult than it had to be. 

“Yakko! I think you walked past it!” Wakko shouted from behind to be heard over the wind. 

Walked past it? No, he wouldn’t have-

He looked above and noticed they were all the way at the bakery, three buildings over from the doctor’s office. 

“This is what you get for complaining Yakko. Keep this up and she’ll be de-”

No. He couldn’t think like that. He turned around and ran as quickly as he could to the doctors without slipping. He cursed when the stupid door was locked. Wakko tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to step aside. Yakko obeyed and Wakko began banging on the door as hard as he could. 

“Ve are closed can’t you read- Oh. The Warners. Vhat do ve have here?” The familiar doctor puzzled. Ignoring the rude implications, Yakko leaned Dot towards him and the doctor gasped and let them come in immediately. 

Thank goodness the doctor was doing well for himself still because his building was nice and toasty. Doctor Scratnsniff closed and locked the door once more after they got in. 

“Vhat is the matter vis Dot?” He asked, gesturing for Yakko to hand her over. Yakko hesitated but obliged. 

“I don’t know... I-i thought she was just tired because she was hungry but when I checked up on her later she was sweaty, a-and she had a cough. A really bad one,” Yakko said. 

“How far did you walk to come here? It vas very far, no?” He asked as he hurried off to his examination table. Yakko and Wakko followed. 

“Very far,” Wakko said. 

“And in a blizzard nonetheless. You two must really care,” Dr. Scratchnsniff said, checking her vitals. 

Yakko scoffed. Was he daft? He had known them since they had moved to Acme Falls and he was surprised they cared about her? 

“Zis is bad... zis is very bad...” The doctor muttered in hopes that the other two sibs wouldn’t hear, but Yakko heard it clear as day. 

“What’s the matter doc?” Yakko said, sticking his hands in his pant pockets nervously. 

“I’m afraid Dot is very ill-”

“Can you fix her?” Wakko interrupted. Scratchnsniff sighed. 

“I do not know. Zis illness... it comes and goes. To remove it would require surgery which is expensive and dangerous, especially around zis time of year,” He scratched the back of his bald head. 

“N-no... there... there has to be something you can do,” Yakko pleaded. 

“I’m sorry Yakko... there isn’t much I can do except recommend a diet and hope for the best. Like I said, it comes and goes,” He explained. 

“Please, we’ll do anything,” Yakko said. Scratchnsniff sighed. 

“I’ll give you a list,” He said. 

Good. At least the doctor wasn’t that daft and heartless. 

“You kiddies should stay here for the next while though, Dot needs her strength and a warm environment ja?” He said as he went to get a piece of paper. Yakko and Wakko shared a look. 

“We only have three ha’pennies...” Wakko said, looking at the ground. “Will that cover it..?” 

Yakko saw Scratchnsniff pause. 

“Guess he isn’t doing as well as I thought,” Yakko thought. 

“Zat will get you three days, ja? Zat should be enough time for her to regain her strength,” He said. Wakko smiled. 

“Thanks scratchy!” He said, hugging the doctor. 

“You’re very velcome Vakko,” He patted his head, clearly uncomfortable with the gesture but too polite to say otherwise. 

“Yeah, thanks doc,” Yakko said, keeping his distance and walking over to Dot.

“Yeah, thanks doc,” Yakko said, keeping his distance and walking over to Dot.

“Y-yakko...” Dot shivered.

“Shh, it’s gonna be okay Dot,” Yakko said, trying his best not to look overwhelmed with worry.

“Wh-where- wh-when-” Dot looked around wearily.

“It’s okay Dot. We’re at the doctor's. Just get some rest, okay? You’re gonna need your strength,” Yakko said, stroking her head.

“A-am I okay?” Dot asked, looking at him wearily.

“You’ll be okay Dot. Everything is gonna be okay," He said, not really believing it, but he willed himself to look like he believed it for her. It wasn't easy, as she went into another nasty coughing fit. After that, Dot shivered and reached out for his hand wearily. He gave it to her, and she placed it under her cheek and embraced it. Yakko thought he might cry.

"It's gonna be okay, Dot. You're gonna be okay."

"You have to," he silently added.

He couldn't afford to lose her too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[suchdan-veryphil]

A Whole Ass Baby? - Jack Barakat Imagine

Anonymous said:

How about a Jack Barakat headcannon/whatever you wanna write about you two finding out that you’re gonna have a kid? I need more Jack content tbh 

Word Count: 2,367

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, getting sick, sex mention, menstruation mentioned, doctors

A/N: 

This is the second time I put something back in my drafts instead of posting it when I was done. And this is now the second time I was sad that a post wasn’t getting notes when it was never posted. I will do better. This took forever, but here it is. I love Jack Bassam Barakat. I love writing Jack Barakat. I am HERE FOR THIS

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

It had been three weeks since I started feeling nauseous. I would just be sitting down and be hit with a sudden wave of nausea, like I was on a boat for too long. I could still eat, I could still drink, I could still shake my ass to Mr. Brightside but if I sat for too long I would just be hit with the feeling that it was time to vom. 

Then two weeks ago, I was fine. The nausea was gone, the world was bright again.

Then about two days ago, it hit me again. I couldn’t eat anything that wasn’t toast, crackers, a banana, or water (although the water was a hit or miss). Too much of anything caused me to be violently sick, and unfortunately for me, “too much” of most things meant one bite. Otherwise, I felt fine. No aches and pains, no headache, no fever. I wasn’t thinking too much about it, though, mostly for those reasons. 

Meanwhile, Jack was pounding back cake, pizza, ribs, wings, margs, and everything in between four or five times a day without a second thought. I was honestly jealous. 

We were sitting on our sofa, watching The Office. I was laying on two of the cushions and he was sitting on the third, resting his elbow on my knees. I watched as he popped three pizza rolls into his mouth at once and started chewing rather loudly. In response, I groaned and pushed his shoulder with the pad of my foot. 

“Do you have to enjoy the good food in the house when I’m sick?” 

He started to reply, but I couldn’t understand him with all of that food in his mouth. It was a low grumble, and he was starting to drool a pizza stained slobber the more he attempted to speak.

“What?! I can’t understand you,” I chuckled a little and sat up before wiping his nasty spit out of his beard. He chewed the food and quickly swallowed before answering. 

“I said, if I don’t eat it then nobody will and that’s a shame. Besides, I still think you should go to the doctor.” He popped another roll in his mouth and looked over at me. 

“I disagree. My stomach has just been off. I have literally zero other symptoms.” 

“You haven’t eaten in like a week. You need to go to the doctor.” Jack raised his eyebrows at me and stared intently. He was probably right, but I hated the doctors and he knew this. 

“If I don’t feel better by Sunday, I’ll go to the doctor. Okay? Just two days.” 

We just stared at each other, both of us begging the other to give in silently. I leaned in and did my best to pout my lip without it being obvious. 

I could tell the second that he went to inhale deeply through his nose that I had won. 

“Thank you,” I leaned over and kissed his cheek gently. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

“You didn’t have to.” I kissed his cheek once more, getting a whif of his greasy lunch. It hit my stomach instantly, bringing me to my feet and to the bathroom to empty whatever small contents that were left. 

That was definitely the universe giving me some sort of karma. 

I could feel his hands rubbing my back as I leaned over the toilet and waited to see if anything else was going to invite itself up. 

With a deep breath, I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped my mouth before flushing and sitting on the cold tile. 

“Do you feel better?” Jack continued to rub my back. I took a second to listen to my body, and also to get reoriented. After a moment, I nodded my head and pressed my palms against the floor to push myself off of the ground. I was only a few inches off the ground when I started to feel dizzy and fell back into Jack’s arms. I closed my eyes and put my hand up to my forehead. 

“Ok, let’s go to the doctor.” I leaned against the sink counter and collected myself before I began to brush my teeth. 

I could see Jack’s face become instantly relieved through the mirror as I spoke.

“I’ll get the keys.” 

Within the minute, we were getting into the car and buckling up. Jack reached over as we stopped at a light and pressed the back of his hand to my forehead. 

“Well you don’t have a fever.” His hands dropped to hold mine, fingers interlaced. 

“I know, that’s why I really didn’t want to go anywhere. I’ve had stomach aches before,” I sighed and rubbed circles along his hand with my thumb. 

Jack nodded and focused on driving. “I know. I know,” 

It wasn’t long before we were in the waiting room of my doctor’s office. I was busy concentrating on not getting sick in front of the other patients waiting to be seen and Jack took out his phone to play a game. 

I stared at his phone screen as he made switched pieces of candy to watch them pop. I concentrated so hard on the screen that I didn’t hear when they called my name. 

“Hey, that’s you.” Jack locked his phone and elbowed my arm as I came to. 

“Oh. Oh, I’m coming. Sorry.” I turned and handed Jack my bag. “Can you hold this?” He just nodded and slung it over his shoulder casually and continued to scroll through his phone.  

I followed the RN into the examination room and sat on the chair with the noisy white paper on it. “So, Y/N, what brings you in today?” 

I sighed and sat back on the chair, making the paper rustle. “Well, I haven’t been feeling well for the last couple of weeks. I have bad nausea, I can’t keep anything down. Today, my boyfriend was eating a pizza roll and just the smell made me sick. I got really light headed in the bathroom after getting sick. I don’t have a fever or anything, but Jack, my partner, is set on me getting seen so... here we are.” 

I let out a breath and watched as the nurse processed everything. “Are you on any medication? Any change in your diet or exercise routine?” 

“Nope, I’m still not on anything and I still don’t diet or exercise.” We both chuckled at my little joke before she nodded and started to take my temp and my blood pressure. 

“Sexually active?” She asked, releasing the air from my arm band. 

I nodded my head and watched as she removed the band. “Yes indeed.” 

“Do you use contraceptives?” 

“We do.” 

“When was your last menstrual cycle?” 

“Um,” I paused and thought back to when the last time I got my period was. I couldn’t remember, which was probably not the best sign. 

“I’d like to give you a pregnancy test to rule it out before the doctor goes and prescribes you something, if that’s alright.” She opened a cabinet and began to reach for whatever she was grabbing as I answered. 

“Yea, that’s fine.” I could feel my palms begin to get sweaty as I thought of the possibility that I was pregnant. Me? A mom? I couldn’t imagine it. I slept until almost noon most days and ate mac and cheese for most meals. There was no way I could be a mom. 

Jack as a dad, though, that was something I could see. He was always ready to take care of others and make someone laugh. Jack was someone who had a lot of patience, was goal-driven, and just made everyone happy. I tried to imagine what it would be like if he had a tiny baby to love and care for, but I was pulled back by the nurse who handed me a cup. 

“Here you go, just pee in this and leave it on the shelf over the sink with your birthday written on it. You can come back in here when you’re done and we’ll let you know what we get and take it from there.” 

I took the small plastic container in my hands and sighed as I looked at it. Getting up from the seat, I couldn’t help but notice my cheeks started to hurt. I could not stop smiling, just imagining that Jack and I could possibly be having a baby. 

Once I reached the bathroom, I followed the nurse’s instructions step-by-step and washed my hands thoroughly. All I could think was “I should have drank more water today” and “Jack and I might be parents”. 

Sitting back on the seat, I bit my lip and rested my head back in the headrest. Jack had no idea what was going on in this room. He was just sitting in the waiting room with my purse over his shoulder, playing Candy Crush or scrolling through TikTok. 

I could feel another wave of nausea hit and I silently prayed to whatever higher power would listen that I would not throw up in this office. All of my energy went into holding in whatever it was that was threatening its way up. To my demise, I was quickly pulled to my feet and hunched over a garbage can to hurl. Between heaves, I heard the door open and close before being met with the voice of my nurse. 

“Well, I think we know why you’re getting so sick.” The water turned on and I soon saw a cup of water in my line of vision along with a tissue. I took both gratefully once I knew I was done before wiping my mouth and drinking the water. I threw the cup and tissue in the trash before sitting and apologizing. 

“I can take that out with me, I’m so sorry. Thank you.” I was rambling at this point, feeling just embarrassed that she had walked in on that. 

“Don’t worry about that. Grosser things have happened here, trust me. We’ll get it taken out once you leave. Now, I have news that could be either really good or really bad depending on how you take it but know that there are options from here.” 

Somehow, this only confused me so I just nodded in hopes that she would get to it. 

“You’re pregnant. This would explain the sickness, the lack of appetite, the lack of fever, and the lack of a period.” 

My heart started to race and I could hear it pumping in my ears. “Wow.” 

It was all I could muster before I looked at her and smiled a little. “Can... can we go get Jack?” 

“Of course! I’ll go get him, I just didn’t want to tell you in front of him just in case.” She smiled back at me and left the room for a minute before returning with Jack, who was still holding my purse over his shoulder. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I saw him looking so non-chalant with it. 

“Hey you. Is everything okay?” He reached out his hand to grab mine before squeezing gently and looking at the nurse and then back at me. 

“Yea, everything’s fine.” I smiled widely at him and bit my lip before looking at the nurse. 

“Well we figured out why Y/N has been getting so sick.” The nurse started before she looked at me. I nodded and held back my tears as she continued. “She’s pregnant.” 

Jack was silent for a second before he looked down at me. “Wait. What?” He smiled widely and dropped my bag to the ground before taking my other hand and squeezing them tightly. 

All I could do was nod. 

“A baby?” He asked and tilted his head, much like a dog would when confused. 

I chuckled and nodded my head. “A baby, Jack.” 

I was barely finished with my sentence before he leaned down and wrapped me up in his arms tightly. 

“Oh my god. A whole ass baby. A kid. A child.” he rubbed my back over a few times before leaning back and holding my face in his hands. 

“So you’re happy?” I asked and smiled widely, reflecting his. Jack let out a quick, “ha” before leaning in and kissing me deeply. 

Once we separated, he bit his lower lip and glanced down at my stomach. “How far along are you?” 

I shrugged, and the nurse chimed in momentarily. “By the looks of your period chart, it would look like you’re about 7 weeks along. I’ll give you guys a few minutes, but when you’re ready you can go to the front and make an appointment with us for within the next few weeks and we can follow up.” 

“Thank you.” was all Jack or I could muster as she excused herself. He looked down at me and dropped his jaw. 

“A whole baby!” 

I laughed and nodded. “Yes! A whole ass baby! Growing in here!” I poked my stomach and chuckled before I bit my lower lip to contain the smile. 

“So you bothered me and pestered me about condom usage and we ended up getting knocked up anyways.” Jack commented. I gently and playfully pushed his shoulder and shook my head. 

“Oh shut up, Barakat. Looks like that wine room is getting turned into a nursery.” 

“Says you. I was thinking your office would be comfier.” 

I laughed a little and shook my head. “Yes, because we need a wine clubhouse AND a wine closet. Sorry, how dare I?” 

With a smile, Jack helped me up to my feet and held my hand. With his free hand, he picked up my bag and handed it to me. 

“I’m carrying a child and you want me to carry my bag too?” I teased as I reached for it. Quickly, he pulled it back and slung it over his shoulder again. 

“Fine, I look better with it anyways. It’s definitely not your color,” he said and lead the way to the front reception area. 

The way my heart swelled with love and joy told me that I was on a very eventful and joyous journey with my boyfriend and our growing family. 

[purplepersnicketywrites]

Could you try 9 for kiribaku if you’re still doing requests? :))

things you said when i was crying

*minecraft villager noise*

___

By the look on Bakugou’s face, Eijirou suspected that he was supposed to think that he was making a rather large mistake. The blond was grinning, but not in a friendly way. It was slightly predatory, as if he was preparing for Eijirou to falter so that he could swoop in with a smug laugh and an ‘I told you so.’ It was irritating but also kinda hot, so Eijirou didn’t really mind.

He inspected the piece of meat held between his chopsticks.

If Eijirou didn’t know any better, he would have assumed the meat was innocent, that the colour on it was merely from the combination of sauces and spices it had marinaded in before cooking. Well, that wasn’t totally untrue, but it was a matter of which sauces. Some would be benign. Some would not.

Like, for instance, capsaicin oil. Also known as (at least in Eijirou’s opinion) the concentrated sweat of all the damned beings rotting in the underworld. This substance was the stuff that gave heat to chili peppers, the stuff that induced that awful, terrible burning sensation that Bakugou liked so much.

The heat wasn’t real, of course, but the capsaicin fooled the mouth into thinking it was. It got into the temperature detecting nerves and played havoc.

This particular meat was part of a range of Bakugou’s favourite dishes at a restaurant known for its stupidly spicy meals. It was Bakugou’s turn to pay this week, so he was the one who got to pick the place to eat at. It was apparent to Eijirou that this place was payback for him being ‘embarrassing’ at their last outing together.

‘Embarrassing’ was, of course, code for ‘Bakugou got too flustered by Eijirou’s obvious flirting and exploded a menu’. Honestly. One of these days they were going to stop dancing around this Thing between them and admit that these outings were dates. The main obstacle was Bakugou’s understandable hesitancy over the whole declaration of feelings stuff, but really, the moment Eijirou got the go-ahead to kiss his best friend he wasn’t ever going to stop.

Anyways. The spicy meat. Eijirou knew that Bakugou was expecting Eijirou to crumble in the face of such an object. Maybe have a spice-related breakdown in the middle of the restaurant. Thing was… Eijirou had a Secret Plan to deal with exactly this sort of situation.

He ate the meat. Eijirou chewed it, slowly, so that he could watch the gradual, delicious change in Bakugou’s expression as it became clearer and clearer that Eijirou wasn’t going to even blink. Eijirou swallowed.

“What the fuck,” Bakugou hissed, having transformed from gleeful gremlin to grouchy grump.

Eijirou took a swig of water to make sure he washed everything out of his handily-hardened mouth before he responded. “You call that spicy?”

“You cheated,” Bakugou said, narrowing his eyes as he sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “I don’t fucking know how, but you cheated.”

“Oh? Are we playing a game?” Eijirou said, leaning forwards to flutter his eyelashes a little. He privately thanked the genetics lottery for giving him the power to turn into a non-porous rock specifically. Huh. Imagine if he became like basalt? Would he float in water instead of sinking? Would-

“You know what I mean,” Bakugou said, pouting off to the side. There was a little colour smudged over his cheeks and Eijirou mentally high-fived his brain.

Eijirou just ate another chunk of meat. Pork? It was hard to actually taste at all thanks to his hardening. He took another swig of water. “S’good! Don’t forget to eat yours!”

“I bet they forgot to season it,” Bakugou muttered darkly, plucking up a piece from Eijirou’s plate.

“Hey!” Eijirou said. “That’s mine.”

“I paid for it,” Bakugou ate it with a glare and then pulled a face. “Okay, what the hell are you doing?”

Eijirou beamed at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Blasty.”

“Yes you do you-” Bakugou cut himself off mid-insult. He sighed. “You big dumb rock. You’re using your fucking quirk, aren’t you?”

“Your words, not mine,” Eijirou snorted. Damn, Bakugou had sniffed him out already. “Aren’t you impressed by my fine control, though? I had to practice for ages so I wouldn’t turn my lips to stone, too.”

That got Bakugou staring at Eijirou’s mouth, which counted as a big win in his books. Bakugou seemed to realise what he was doing all too quickly and turned his attention back to his own plate. “Whatever.”

Oh yeah, it wouldn’t be long now. Some day very soon would roll around and Bakugou would finally reach for his hand. Eijirou didn’t feel bad about pushing things sometimes - he’d tried to back off once when he thought his feelings weren’t reciprocated and that had just ended in Bakugou not-so-subtly hinting that Eijirou should go back to ‘normal’.

The rest of the meal went by smoothly, Bakugou rolling his eyes as Eijirou ate his food without a sweat and Eijirou nodding along to stuff his friend was saying.

All too soon they were on their way back to the dorms. It was nice, Eijirou thought, that now they were in their third year they were allowed to go out for short trips be themselves. The school wouldn’t be able to give everyone bodyguards after graduation, after all.

It was also nice to walk side-by-side with Bakugou in companionable silence. Eijirou very much looked forwards to the time when they could be holding hands as they went, too.

The Heights Alliance building came into view, and Eijirou heard the sound of paper tearing. Huh. He turned to look at Bakugou. The blond had a very weird expression on his face, but Eijirou didn’t have time to ask what was up because all of a sudden there was a hand tugging at the collar of his shirt and a pair of lips meeting his own.

Holy shit.

Eijirou responded eagerly. Greedily, even, clutching at Bakugou to bring him closer. He melted into the kiss, surprised but not displeased in the slightest when Bakugou slipped his tongue into his mouth. Bakugou kissed with aggression and fire, almost burning in the way that he- Wait a second.

The burning wasn’t metaphorical. Eijirou’s mouth felt like it had been set alight, and that wasn’t typically supposed to happen in a kiss as far as he was aware. He pulled back from Bakugou, detached his limbs, saw the triumphant look in his best friend’s eyes and felt the burning sensation increase. Oh. Holy fucking shit. Bakugou was an absolute bastard and Eijrou liked him so damn much.

“Did you just hot sauce me?”

Bakugou grinned and held up a small empty packet labelled ‘XXX SUPER HOT’.

“You’re an asshole,” Eijirou said, panting and feeling himself break into a sweat. Spice tears began to pool at the corner of his eyes and he leant foward to put his hands on his knees. Maybe if he jumped into a pool of ice he could stave off this feeling?

“Yeah,” Bakugou agreed. “You good?”

“I’m dying,” Eijirou said, dropping to the ground and rolling onto the grass. “Call the fire brigade, Blasty. I need water!”

“Nah, water makes it worse,” Bakugou said, looking down at Eijirou with amusement. Holy shit he’d just kissed Eijirou for the first time. “What you want is sweetened milk.”

Eijirou groaned. He was sure his nose was streaming along with his eyes now. It was only because of the spice. That was the only reason he was teary. “Call the milk brigade, then.”

“Dramatic. There’s milk in the kitchen,” Bakugou said, kicking lightly at Eijirou’s side.

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna spontaneously combust from the face down,” Eijirou stuck his arm up so that Bakugou could help him to stand. Once he was on his feet, he moved Bakugou’s hand to the other of his own and linked their fingers together. Heh. Bakugou didn’t even try to pull his hand away! “Today was nice until you tried to murder me. With your tongue, what the fuck? Not that I’m complaining about the tongue bit - that was great - but the hot sauce?”

Bakugou looked almost unbearably smug. “That’s what you get for cheating.”

“What, poisoned kisses?” Eijirou asked, fanning himself with his free hand. “I cannot believe you used our first kiss as a prank. I mean, I can, but like,” He paused his fanning for a moment. “You know what? Worth it. You should definitely kiss me again. Without the pain.”

Bakugou turned a little pink and pulled Eijirou towards the Alliance building. “Maybe I will.”

He did.

[angstalottle]

Blue Sparks

Part 1

Klaus remembers the day Five was ripped apart.

It was coming to the end of a week-long punishment that Five had practically begged for by yelling at the dinner table and making a run for it.

Maybe he would have gotten away and had a chance at life if Mom hadn’t caught him and snapped a collar around his neck that shocked him every time he tried to teleport stopping himself before the blue was able to form around his hands.

Five dropped to the floor panting as their father came over to him and delivered a swift his from his cane across the cheek “as my other attempts at punishing you have clearly been ineffective for the next month you shall do without your powers.”

At first, Klaus was jealous.

Not only were Five powers the best begin with now he got a break from training too?! How was this fair?!

It seemed the other siblings felt the same as they continued to eat while Five pulled himself up and stumbled back to his room moving up the stairs like a kicked dog.

Only Vanya went to check on him that night, the others pretended they didn’t hear the crying.

The first day didn’t seem so bad.

Sure Five was sporting a nasty bruise on his cheek but he only had to take part in group training and after that was allowed to go study or some shit while Klaus was given his private time slot to suffer even more.

He couldn’t help but shove him to the side as they crossed paths in the hall only feeling a little bad when on instinct Five tried to teleport away and ended up on his knees gasping in pain.

It seemed like everyone had decided Five deserved more punishment as come meal time his cutlery was dulled, his chair had a tack on it, his juice was taken and whenever Reginald wasn’t looking someone would steal some of his food.

Whenever Five tried to do anything about it Luther would tip him off his chair knowing that would make him try to teleport and end with him being shocked.

By the second day it had almost become a twisted game.

Anyone who got Fives extra training particularly seemed to enjoy getting him shocked, after all by then the collar didn’t even seem to hurt him much.

At the end of the third day Klaus was woken up by someone in the bathroom throwing up. He decided to investigate just in case it was Ben.

He was greeted with the sight of a very pale Five flushing the toilet and wiping his mouth.

“You ok?” Klaus asked softly.

“You care?” Five responded groaning slightly as he put a hand on his stomach “I think somethings wrong with me”

Klaus rolled his eyes “Yeah I could of told you that... do you think you’ve got the flu?” He asked taking a step back.

Five shrugged “I don’t know. If this lasts any longer I’ll talk to mom.”

“Lucky you're not doing your personal training then” Klaus huffed bitterly “do you know I got yours today, it was hell so thanks for that.”

Five narrowed his eyes for a moment “what is your training anyway?”

That caught Klaus off guard. No one asked that it wasn’t like they weren’t supposed to talk about it... just no one did.

“Dad locks me in a graveyard so I stop being scared of ghosts. You?”

Klaus was expecting something easy. After all what kind of training could you even do for teleporting?

“I guess he wants me to be able to use my powers when I’m scared too” Five finally  said.

“Yeah but what does he do?” Klaus tapped his foot impatiently”

“It changes every time. He liked burying me alive for a while but when I figured out how to teleport without moving he switched things up with basic forms of torture. Before the... dinner incident it was waterboarding.”

The information hung heavily in the air.

Klaus had no idea that... Five was being tortured for hours daily and not even letting slip what he was going through.

Suddenly trying to run off to a different time made a lot more sense.

Klaus didn’t know what to say. He just stood there so long that Five took it as a sign to leave.

He stepped out back to his room just give Klaus a slipping glimpse of the harsh red burn around his neck.

Five wasn’t at breakfast the next day.

That seemed to be enough to end the teasing from the others and replace it with worry.

The last time Five hadn’t been present was after a mission and he got shot in the gut and needed to spend a few days recovering.

When Mom made an appearance she was quickly hounded with questions from her children.

“Where’s Five?!” Came out the front runner and therefore was answered first.

“Your brother is going to be spending the day in the infirmary. He should be fine but has got a fever so do not disturb him.” She smiled as she returned to making pancakes.

Guilt made its home in the sibling's guts.

Getting shocked over and over again as well as having your food taken could make anyone sick let alone someone as skinny as Five was.

Klaus felt particularly bad because he knew something was up but still let him go to bed to suffer alone all night.

Maybe that was why he snuck down to see him while Reginald was distracted with Allison rumouring Luther into thinking he was an alien.

He snuck down keeping an eye out for both mom and Pogo letting out a sigh of relief when he finally got down and saw Five lying on the bed.

Is usually pale face was flushed red and his breathing was a little more laboured then it should be.

“Five?” Klaus asked quietly trying not to look at the needles hungrily.

They likely didn’t have anything that would make the background screaming go away and if his hunch was right, we're just filled with antibiotics for the burn on Fives neck.

There of course was no answer and Klaus sighed.

Of course, if he’s sick he wouldn’t be awake to chat.

He really only came here to see he was ok and well... he looked a lot worse than he did last night.

He shifted awkwardly “I wanted to say sorry for how I treated you this last couple of days. What dads doing already sucks and we shouldn’t have made it worse. I hope you get better soon Vanya’s gonna be sad if you can’t listen to her play.”

With nothing else to say Klaus awkwardly stepped out of the room.

He assumed he hadn’t been caught but considering the next day when he went to check in on Five again, he found the door locked someone must have seen him.

Klaus decided to just wait until Five was better to talk to him and apologise properly... and maybe talk to him about private training again.

He wanted to help his brother and maybe be helped in return.

It couldn’t hurt to have a teleporter on your side when you're locked in a hellish place surrounded by screaming angry ghosts.

It happened at 4 am exactly.

Everyone but Klaus was fast asleep so they didn’t see the start of it.

He was staring out the window doing his best to ignore the crying woman on his bed when a familiar flash of blue appeared outside.

At first, he assumed Five got the collar off and was testing out his powers.

Then Dad, Pogo and Mom all ran outside and started yelling.

The really weird thing was that the blue glow around Five that normally dissipated in less than a second was still there.

Almost like when Ben let out the horror a blue glow came from his chest.

Five screaming was what made Klaus run down to the garden though quickly followed by the others.

For once Reginald was too distracted to notice his children breaking the rules and was instead yelling over the harsh wind and screams “the power levels have grown too high for his body to contain them any longer. I believed number Five may have use as a battery but I underestimated how fast the charge would build.”

As he spoke the glow in Fives chest seemed to crack outwards splintering out until it covered his entire body and his eyes glowed blue.

“Sir how do we help him?” Lither asked as though he could just strong arm Five into being ok.

“I’m afraid number Five is in reachable now. Return to the house at once.” He snapped but Klaus wasn’t going to have that.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was thinking as he ran over and grabbed Five my shoulders his hands burning from the heat coming off him.

“FIVE! Please, can you hear me?”

Five slowly nodded tears streaming down his face “it hurts... so bad”

His voice was distant like it was being carried away to some distant land.

“I know! You’ll be ok! I promise you're going to be fi-“

Klaus never got to finish that sentence because Five began to crumble away into a shower of blue sparks.

He did the only thing he could and pull Five into a hug right as his body dissolved into nothingness.

Klaus was left kneeling clutching the air in shock.

He could hear his siblings screams and cries behind him but he didn’t care.

Five was gone.

He frantically began looking around for Five to appear as one of the many ghosts.

Getting more and more frustrated.

“You won’t find him number Four. While number Five is gone he is likely not dead in the same sense you are accustomed to. He has been erased from existence in a way.”

The news was like a punch to the gut.

Their brother was gone.. as good as dead and Reginald didn’t even care.

Klaus was, of course, punished the next day. They all were.

But it seemed like no matter what they went through the pain of having Five torn from their lives like that was worse than anything their father could throw at them.

They grew closer in their grief and guilt. Even Vanya was included.

Ben dying was really what forced them all to move out and go their separate ways.

Being together to be picked off one at a time just hurt too much...

Klaus lost touch with the others but was content with drugs and being followed around by Ben forever.

That is until a blue sparkle caught the corner of his eye and every familiar scream lit up the night.

[phobiadeficient]

SpeedingBullet but make scout completely oblivious for way too long

“so we both have buckets of fried chicken, you wanna do it?” ass bitch over here can’t even spell subtlety let alone understand it so good fuckin luck with that crush sniper

-

Scout’s pickup lines generally consisted of walking up to someone attractive, looking around to make sure they were alone enough to not be overheard, and asking them if they either wanted to go out or wanted to have sex depending on his mood.

So Sniper was pretty sure that wooing Scout wasn’t exactly necessary, but Sniper also generally tried to hold himself to a standard regardless of “necessity”. So he decided to go about it the right way anyways.

One day when he was hanging out in the base for once, Scout ducked into the common room and asked if anyone wanted to go with him to get something “real” to eat. Sniper volunteered. That started a weekly routine of them going off-base every Saturday to get tacos together at the nearest place that sold them, half an hour away.

For Scout’s birthday, Sniper got him a present—a record player, so he wouldn’t constantly need to argue with Heavy and Demo about whose turn it was to play music in the common room. One week, Scout got the flu, and Medic basically quarantined him off so he wouldn’t spread it to the rest of the team. Sniper spent an afternoon digging up the recipe for soup that he had from back home, making enough that Scout wouldn’t need to cook anything for himself for the next week or so until he was allowed at team dinners again, bringing the first serving of it to him and hanging out with the kid even though he knew he might get sick, and on Saturday he specifically called in a favor with Pyro and had them cook tacos so he could bring them by. The team went out drinking one weekend, and he and Scout sat together practically the whole night. When most of the team decided to finally head out, Sniper waved them off and offered to drive himself and Scout back later, promising not to drink too much. Scout expressed an interest in getting up and dancing when one of his favorite songs came up on the radio, and somehow Sniper roped himself into dancing with Scout for long enough that the next morning his legs were sore.

Scout didn’t seem to think anything of it. He stepped up his game.

He asked Scout if he wanted to go out and get coffee at some point. Scout told him he didn’t like coffee, it messed with his stomach, and that energy drinks were totally where it’s at. He asked if Scout wanted to get dinner. Scout agreed that wow it really had gotten late, it was dinner time already, they better hurry up before the rest of the team inhaled the meal.

He asked if Scout wanted to go on a date.

Scout said, man, like you wouldn’t believe! But lately whenever he hit on people they didn’t seem to ever catch on. He asked Sniper if he knew what that was like.

Sniper said, yes. He knew that feeling intimately.

He got tired of it. It had been nearly five months of subtle hints, gentle pushes, pointed questions. A whole five months of light flirting, compliments, Sniper paying for their food and Sniper carving out all of his free time and Sniper constantly, constantly setting himself up and never finding any payoff for it. It was the worst kind of edging.

And yes, he very much wanted to just hop into bed with Scout. But he also very much wanted to date Scout, it would seem. Yes he wanted to situate his body between Scout‘s heavily muscled thighs and drive him absolutely insane. But also he wanted to kiss Scout hello in the morning.

He’d gotten sappy. God damn it. Now it would hurt a lot worse if Scout rejected him. But he couldn’t find it in himself to even be scared of that, because he’d been on an almost seven month dry spell by then, not wanting to be so much of an asshole to go for several people at once without their knowledge, so he was mostly just concerned with getting a yes or no answer so he could move forward in one direction or another.

It was Valentine’s Day. It was after work. He showered, unpacked his nice suit that he sometimes used when he had to go out on contract, bought a bouquet, and marched himself directly through the base to Scout’s room and hammered his fist on the door.

Scout opened the door.

“Do you, Scout,” Sniper asked, “want to go out on a date, romantically, with me, Sniper, tonight on this Valentine’s Day? Please?”

Silence for two seconds. “Oh, fuck. That was flirting, wasn’t it?” Scout asked, apparently coming to a series of realizations.

“Yes. It was. For about five months for what it’s worth.”

“Since we started Taco Days?” Scout asked, eyes widening.

“Since a bit before, yes.”

“Oh god. Oh fuck. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

Sniper felt his heart sink, some of the determination seeping out of his shoulders. “Is that a no?” he asked, a bit less firmly now.

“No, yes, I—no it’s not a no, yes I wanna date you,” Scout clarified quickly. “Uh. Fuck. Shit. Where?”

“Anywhere,” Sniper shrugged. “But the taco place is open. They have a special for couples tonight.”

“You wanna be couples?” Scout asked, a little surprised.

“Ideally.”

Scout thought about it for a second. “I mean, yeah, sure! Okay! Or, I dunno, first date and then if it goes well—shit, Taco Day has been a date hasn’t it? Uh. First romantic date—not that it’s not romantic—“

“Look, it’s already almost six and they’re closing at ten,” Sniper cut in.

“Yeah, I’ll get changed,” Scout agreed quickly, moving to shut the door before catching himself and taking the flowers first, clearly shocked by the entirety of the proceedings. “Fuck. I’m real fuckin’ stupid, huh Snipes?”

“You’re lucky it’s cute,” Sniper deadpanned. “Meet me outside in twenty?”

“Thirty, I gotta shower,” Scout replied, dragging a hand up through his hair self-consciously. “But yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

“Yeah,” Sniper nodded.

-

The date went fine. The drive over was weirdly quiet, and Scout fidgeted with the radio a lot more, drummed his fingers against his own leg, the same way he sometimes did before confessing that something was bothering him—nerves about the new niece he had on the way, or annoyance about some bullshit that one of the team had said to him, or guilt about some prank gone awry that he hadn’t confessed to. But he didn’t speak, just fiddling, drumming.

Then tacos were basically business as usual. Scout made a joke about what dummies they were, eating tacos in suits, how they were for sure gonna end up with sauce on their nice white shirts, and Sniper laughed, and they didn’t.

Halfway through, Scout started asking questions.

“So dudes, huh? That why you’d never say anything when I started goin’ off about some girl?”

“And jealously, but yeah, that too,” Sniper admitted. He was glad he’d elected to keep his shades on. They helped hide the fact that he was bad at eye contact at the best of times.

“I kinda thought it was because you had a girlfriend or a wife off somewhere that you never wanted to talk about, like how Spy’s a prick about that stuff. I mean, you don’t, right? Have a girl somewhere?”

“No. And not a bloke either, for what it’s worth,” Sniper replied.

“Okay. Cool. Good.” Scout fidgeted with a napkin, took a drink of water. “I mean, didn’t think you’re the type for that anyways, but… yeah.”

Sniper took a drink of his own water. Silence for a moment.

“And you kinda wanna just—you wanna do boyfriend stuff? With me?” Scout asked, confused, as if some part of the proceedings didn’t make sense to him.

“Feels a bit like I already do,” Sniper pointed out.

“I mean, not all the boyfriend stuff,” Scout mumbled, eyes back on his napkin. “I dunno. Maybe it’ll be nice though.”

“What sorts of “boyfriend stuff” have I missed so far that you’d like to see more of?” Sniper asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like, talkin’ about yourself more. You’re like, practically my therapist.”

“The complaining to me, you mean?”

“Yeah. And you barely ever complain back. Unless you’re agreeing with me that Spy’s a prick.” Scout looked up, baby blues trying to meet his eyes through his glasses. “I wanna hear more about you.”

Sniper couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “Alright. I can try. Besides that?”

Scout looked away, face going a bit red as the silence progressed. He glanced around their vicinity for a second, barely managing to meet Sniper’s gaze before he had to break it again. “C’mon man, you’re gonna make me say it?” he said quietly.

“Five months.”

“Fine, sheesh, I…” He ducked his head a little. “Maybe… kissing and all that crap.”

Sniper raised an eyebrow at him. Scout scowled when he glanced up and saw it.

“Look, I ain’t ever done this with a guy before, alright?” he said defensively, and he’d sunk pretty far by then down into his seat. “I dunno what the hell I’m doin’.”

“We can take it slow if you want,” Sniper suggested, feeling a little bad.

“I didn’t say that, I’m just tellin’ you I’m gonna be a total idiot,” Scout muttered.

“Oh? What all would you like to jump right into then?”

“I’m not sayin’ it in public, that’s all I’m gonna tell you,” Scout said stubbornly, and Sniper laughed, and allowed him to change the subject to something else.

Scout paid the tab, saying it was his turn anyways, As usual, Sniper drove them to the taco place and Scout was the one to drive them back. Conversation was limited, both of them relaxed and satisfied.

Scout surprised him by pulling off the route they took back to instead park them at one of those roadside tourist-y areas where people could stop and stretch their legs on road trips and take photos and read a plaque. It was empty, of course it was, and the second Scout had the car in park and the keys out of it, dropped onto the dashboard, he promptly jumped the gearshift and landed himself in Sniper’s lap.

“Okay,” Scout opened with. “So here’s the thing.”

“Right?” Sniper replied hesitantly, hands on Scout’s waist, glancing him up and down.

“So like, me about guys, that’s usually secondary to the girls thing. Because girls are great. Usually it’s only really hot guys who I’d go for. And I guess I kinda more thought about you as a coworker mostly for a long time, right? Because you were. But then, I dunno, at some point I guess it clicked a little, right? That you’re hot.”

Sniper grinned. “Yeah? What is it, which part?” he asked.

“Stubble’s a big one,” Scout admitted. “And you know how to handle your gun crazy well, and can totally fuck a guy up with your knife. It’s real hot. And you’ve got these shoulders, and like… a lot of things basically,” Scout concluded, hands finding the shoulders in question. “And just, man. You look fuckin’ good in a suit. And I just wanna… I don’t even know what. I wanna do somethin’ to you.”

“Kissing’ as good start,” Sniper suggested, and Scout needed no further prompting, leaning in and spending exactly five seconds kissing Sniper like a good Christian boy before he promptly got filthy with it, pulling tricks with his tongue that made Sniper groan.

He broke away again, breathless. “Hate to take this off since you like it so much,” he admitted, tugging at his own tie pointedly.

“Well I fuckin’ know I wanna do that to you,” Scout said, and started working Sniper’s suit jacket off of him.

Scout mostly moved to toss the components of Sniper’s suit into the back seat carelessly, stripping him to his undershirt before he helped Sniper get off his own dress shirt. He managed to get his own pants undone before he apparently got impatient, nipping at Sniper’s freshly exposed collarbones with those rabbitish teeth of his, making Sniper’s hands fumble where he was at work on his own belt.

“Have an idea enough about how this works to know how you’d like to do this?” Sniper asked, a rumble into his ear that made Scout shiver.

“I dunno, just touch my dick, fuck,” Scout said impatiently, and got back to work marking up Sniper’s neck like he was getting paid, starting to grind down into him. Sniper was distantly aware of the fact that the windows were starting to fog.

The fact that he suddenly realized he didn’t actually have any lube or condoms on him, having assumed they’d get back at least to base before they started making out like horny teenagers, meant that their options were limited, but Sniper wasn’t that worried about it. He just got to work trying to worm Scout’s pants down his thighs, working with the rhythm of rolls that he’d established. He got a bit impatient, grabbing around the back of Scout’s thighs with both hands to lift him up enough to work his own pants down past his knees before letting him back down again, a moan startled out of him as Scout promptly grinded against him, making a similar noise.

“Hold on,” Sniper grunted, stopping Scout with a hand on his hip, raising the other to his own face to spit in it once, twice, before lowering it to slick both Scout and himself, and then he was wrapping a hand around them both as best he could and starting to jerk.

Scout’s reaction was immediate, starting to roll his hips into the wet, slick grip, eyelashes fluttering and mouth falling open around gasps, the first silent and every one after that satisfied.

“C’mon,” Sniper prompted, nosing in just below his chin and kissing his throat briefly. “Help me out with this. Get your hand wet—yeah, there you go—now c’mon, right here. Good. God, yeah, like that. There’s a beauty.”

Scout used his free hand to wrap around Sniper’s shoulder to pull him close, mashing their lips together gracelessly but enthusiastically. Sniper’s free hand moved at first to grip at Scout’s ass, satisfied at the fact that he could now do so, then eventually to toy with Scout’s chest, pinching at one nipple and then the other, wringing all sorts of noises from Scout’s mouth and into his own and enjoying every second of it.

He felt Scout getting close quicker than he did, and tried to make up for the distance by starting to also roll his hips up into his fist, a steady roll that made him groan and pinch harder, grip just slightly tighter. He was distantly aware of the fog that clung to the windows, of the sweat on his own forehead and Scout’s chest beneath his hand, of the squeak of the car’s suspension as they rocked it, but mostly he just focused on the mounting pleasure.

Scout keened against his mouth, gasping damply against him as he stalled out, hips jerking and struggling. He opened his eyes, and the flush on his face, the redness of his lips wound wide around further noises of pleasure, the final gasp of “Fuck, Snipes,” that Scout managed to whimper, the feeling of Scout’s hand shifting to simply hold on to him instead of both of them, it had him finishing within a few strokes, his own noise much quieter.

In a few minutes, they’d start laughing at the cliche of fucking in a car, start struggling to clean up and get to their own clothes, start talking about how next time Sniper would show him how real fucking worked, about how they’d flip a coin to pick who’d be on top the first time.

Until then, they kissed, and at least in the afterglow, Sniper figured the five months were worth it. Just barely.

[jae-canikeepyou]

| marked | j.jh | ch. six

genre: superpower!au

a/n: i’ve missed days to upload but thanks for waiting! :D I've finalized the chapters for this series and it’ll have 14-15 chapters more or less. please look forward to them! ~j. 

you entered the cafeteria with mina and eunha. it was just in time for lunch after long hours of classes and training. they taught you in-depth information of each power category. as for someone who recently arrived at the core, you would say your hardwork paid off and if there were any flaws, there was still room for improvement. “ah finally! i’m so hungry!” mina stretched to grab a tray for the three of you.

“well duh, who isn’t? ah corn soup please, thank you.” eunha chuckled at your friend as you waited when food was being placed onto your tray.

you were headed to your usual table until mingyu, eunwoo and seokmin spotted your group. they gestured you to sit with them and in which you did. “i tell you if mr yoon catches me sleeping again, i’d say ‘hello detention’ for a week.” mingyu yawned.

“you easily adapted to the core, y/n. that’s quite quick for someone new.” seokmin smiled, popping a fry to his mouth.

“well it has been three weeks.” eunha said, later turning to you, who seemed dazed off as usual. “uh hello? earth to y/n?”

“oh sorry, i was just thinking.” you embarrassedly smiled as you began to eat.

“yeah sure thinking of jaehyun.” mingyu yet again said his thoughts aloud.

mina and eunha kicked the boy from across while eunwoo and seokmin gave a soft sigh. it had been almost two weeks since you last seen or talked with jaehyun. as an absolute you could see what he was doing. not trying to interfere with his privacy or anything, but the thoughts of hurted people would show unless they thought of you, so it was different compared to the normal.

in jaehyun case? he was actually thinking of you. right now you couldn’t bring up to your friends because they’d ask either to clear things up between you and him. jaehyun on the other hand hear your thoughts as if it were music to listen to. he did feel guilty of storming off that day, he had his reasons and he hoped you understand. he questioned why things would get into you so easily, like you were vulnerable and not bothering to see the whole picture, and the bright side. sure you were both people with absolute sense of sight and hearing, but personality really differs.

gongchan appeared before everyone in the hall, chanyeol and wheein soon followed. they had papers in hand. “hey y/n.” eunwoo called out to you. “do you mind if you could take a peek of the papers they’re holding?”

without any second thoughts, you did see them. “it’s a list we have to fill in for the upcoming three days two nights field trip.” you began to have little bites of your meal. “that’ll be five days from today.”

“in the snow? heck it’s not called a field trip.” mingyu complained.

“it’s a survival game. i couldn’t see much but a team should have a group of seven and one of the members should be an adapter to the cold.” you continued speaking. “that’d be you seokmin.”

“oh right! it’s that time of the year, huh.” seokmin’s pearly whites shone. “tell you what, y/n, our team never lost. we’re the defending champion holder. five years already since jaehyun joined our team.”

“great, since there’s six of us we could ask jaehyun to join u- ow!” mingyu hissed, earning another kick from the girls. “seriously stop doing that!”

“we had to because you keep bringing jaehyun up!” mina rolled her eyes at the boy.

“yeah always not a good timing.” eunha sighed, rubbing her temples.

“c’mon guys, it’s not like we’re dating.” you broke the soon-to-be heated argument. “i don’t mind if he’s with us. we’re not gonna talk anyway.. for now.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the days seemed to come by so fast. per usual jaehyun didn’t show up for classes, so you either trained alone or with wheein mentoring you. the snow piled up and the forest began to look like wonderland. it was still a sight. each group were given glowlamps; to protect yours and steal others’. it meant survival and tactics. protect at all costs and if yours ever broke, your team will go back to the core. your group chose an area by a lake where mingyu could camouflage the team with his aquatic thing; you still don’t know what it was called.

as your group walked to the spot, the boys began setting up the cabin tent that was large enough for the seven of you. the game began at dusk, you knew there will be no sleep.

“now this is all set up, how about we have dinner?” mingyu asked, other responded with yay’s and finally’s. “jaehyun and i prepared many dishes, but this is the star meal.” he pointed at a huge container with marinated meat, a smile grew on his face.

“ey don’t exaggerate.” jaehyun’s ears slowly tinted pink.

mingyu ignored him, “jaehyun’s recipe: jae-yook!”

“it’s been long since we’ve eaten this!” mina squealed with hands on her cheeks. “y/n! you should try-“ she turned around, only to find you weren’t behind her. “y/n?”

eunha nudged mina, pointing your tired body by the lake. it brought attention to the boys, they wanted you to join.

“she probably doesn’t know we’re about to eat.” seokmin wondered. “y/n! food’s ready!” they saw you turned around, slightly jogging to where they sat. “all you had to do was call her.” he shrugged his shoulders.

the only light source in the forest was the moon above and the campfire. with seokmin’s powers, it wouldn’t be hard to sleep in the cold, that is, if you were going to. before discussing the plans for tonight’s survival game, they decided to play uno and other games they could come up with. there were history and stories told.

you all sat around the campfire. it was awkward at least for you because jaehyun sat across from you. “should we check our essentials before heading to bed?” jaehyun asked everyone whose eyes slowly dropped.

“ah yes we should.” eunwoo stood up and went inside the cabin tent. you soon followed as you remembered mina had packed before you left the core. inside the emergency kits included flashlights, extra water and sleeping bags. you helped eunwoo fetch the first aid and other things that might help the game.

“do we have those red light thingy? the ones that shoot up the sky for help?” jaehyun asked as he reached for the things that were passed to him.

“yeah of course. we always bring them.” eunwoo grabbed another bag. “y/n i think there’re some in there.”

“mina packed it for us before leaving. i’ll double check.” you said in a soft voice. your hand dug deep into the bag, rummaging for the items. “ah got it.” you grabbed hold of a gun and cylinders that were a little larger than the size of a whiteboard pen. the sight of it made you wonder, where have you seen this before? for no particular reason, you began to feel uneasy. your head spun in circles and your chest pumped like your heart wanted to go out.

eunwoo finished gathering the items as he went out the tent, handing them to the others. jaehyun saw how your face turned pale even if seokmin’s powers were still in force. “are you okay-” he held your unbalanced body.

embarrassment and guilt showered you, not wanting to talk to him because of the behaviour you showed him. “i-i’m fine.” you voice raised as you quickly went out of the tent.

eunha and seokmin already fell asleep on the chairs. mina had to wake them up to move inside the tent. “can you maybe light up the fire a bit more? it’s about to die out.” you asked mina as she supported eunha.

“yeah sure.” she said, noticing your unusual self. “are you okay? do you want to get some sleep?”

“i’m fine. my mind’s too occupied at the moment. if i sleep right now i wouldn’t have a peaceful one.” you managed to smile.

“alright we’ll go on ahead then. see you tomorrow.”

“jaehyun, y/n and i will do the nightwatch. we’ll do rounds on alternate days.” eunwoo told mingyu and mina.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

it had been four hours since the others slept. you, eunwoo and jaehyun took turns in guarding the glowlamp or sleep in for a few minutes. until now, you and jaehyun haven’t talked. none wanted to take initiative as you were afraid it may lead to another heated argument.

jaehyun perked up in his seat and looked at the distance. eunwoo soon took notice and stood up. “did you hear anything?”

“yeah, i hear voices. only few miles from our current location.” he zipped his coat and stood, as if he was preparing to leave.

“they’ve got their lamp. a red one.” you added as you fixed yourself on your chair.

“that’s yugyeom and jungkook’s team. both of you take care of them while i guard ours.” eunwoo lifted the lime green lamp.

“nah i think i’ll stay.” you convinced the boy but he wasn’t buying it.

“go. it’s your first survival game. i guarantee you can handle it. jaehyun is with you anyway.” he smiled, and you really wanted to hit him right then and there.

you sighed in agreement, with jaehyun reaching out his hand to support you from the downhill slope. jaehyun looked back at eunwoo, who gave him a thumbs up and mouthed ‘man up dude’. he tossed jaehyun the signal flare in case something comes up.

as you walked in the forest, silence still was between you and jaehyun. sounds of the snow breaking from each footstep you both made.

“look i’m sorry,” “i’m really sorry,”

you looked at jaehyun and he did the same. like having a stare down, little laughs escaped your lips. “you first. l-ladies first.” he insisted.

“i’m sorry for how i acted. i should’ve listened when i know nothing about our identity.” you rubbed your arms, avoiding his gaze.

jaehyun hesistated to grab your hand, but he did anyway. the heat from his meant he understood. “i’m sorry too. disappointment got the best in me and expected too much of you. i- i mean..” he stumbled his words. “i mean because you’re an absolute too. so i thought you’d be better than this.”

before you could say anything further, jaehyun pushed you away as multiple balls of electricity got in between you and him.

“oi, lovebirds already hitting it off?” yugyeom walked close, playing with electricity like it was fun. jungkook, donghyuk, rose, jihyo, junhoe and yubin appeared behind him.

jaehyun took your hand in his. “stay behind me.” you followed, not liking the vibe coming from the tall lad. “you seem confident, yugyeom. still got underlings huh? you can never do things on your own.” he smirked, the dimples showed.

“well, i just did throw my power to you.” he laughed.

“for someone whose aim is sloppy, that was a bad throw.” you scoffed, earning a tight squeeze from jaehyun.

ooh’s and gasps were heard from the group. claps were of sarcasm and disbelief. “feisty, aren’t you, newbie?” oh how you wanted to beat him up.

“on my signal, take care of the girls. the lamp is with them. you have to break theirs before they reach our tent. i’ll handle the others.” jaehyun let go of your hand as he pushed you up front.

the group continued with their intimidation, in case it actually had an effect on you. they did the first move, but you knew better. how this was a piece of cake? you didn’t know. the strength building up inside you wanted to show its best. jaehyun was a one-man stunt, four against one. he was unbelievable.

you chased down rose, who had the lamp in her cold hands. by now you have gotten out of jihyo and yubin’s grasp. rose screamed for help when she couldn’t face you. ah she’s one of the weaklings, you thought. it was like rugby, the drive to steal the lamp was intense.

just a little more before rose could use her vine powers, you managed to smash the lamp— bits and pieces of glass shards cut your flesh. claiming your team’s first catch, you shot up the signal flare and you called out for jaehyun as you turned around-

only to meet a huge wood log, aiming your face.

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| marked — chapter six: survival game |

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[imaginetonyandbucky]

How to get away with Winter (without murder)

Prompt by Anonymous: what if Winter is separated from Bucky and Winter is very protective of Tony, like more so than Bucky, and he baby's the hell out of him so Tony complains to Bucky who just laughs and joins Winter in spoiling Tony to death 

A/N: I wasn’t sure about how much separated are we talking about, so here’s Winter as his own person, but still part of Bucky - hope that’s alright ^^

Written as a sequel to another prompt fic: How to get away with (murder) Tony (AO3), but can be read as a stand-alone fic as there’s just a minor reference to the previous two stories - that’s where the Bucky/Winter/Tony dynamic comes from though ^^ Enjoy! <3

Tony loves Sunday mornings.

If anyone told him a year ago that he would like any morning at all, he’d laugh for days. He’s hated mornings ever since his early MIT days. Partying and school didn’t mix all too well and once he added late night tinkering, mornings became his worst adversaries.

He’s an owl, he thrives in the night. But then there’s Bucky, an absolute morning person if he’s ever met one – and he does keep on meeting Steve heading off to his morning run at 5AM so, yeah.

Where Tony prefers to hide from the offending rays of sunlight, Bucky bathes in them, enjoying the warmth and light. That’s what he figured real fast – the guy is a morning person and despite his codename he’s a summer guy, too. And Tony can work with that, even though the first few times he’s been woken up by a waaaaay too lively supersoldier at six o’clock on a Sunday were bordering on torturous. He used Sundays to reboot and get enough sleep to warrant another week-long sleepless workshop parties.

Now...well, let’s just say he’s not too unhappy with the new Sundays.

Waking up to a kiss and his all-time favorite Bucky-smile is definitely better than waking up at noon – rested, but alone. This waking up scenario is not limited to Sundays only, so now that he thinks about it, Tony just loves mornings these days.

Especially if they’re coupled with Winter-made waffles for breakfast.

The Other-other guy gets to be in control every now and then – under the promise of not killing anyone during the time – and he uses it for two things: cooking and pranking. Since murder is off the menu, he opted for the lesser evil and just pranks whoever he deems deserving of punishment. And it usually ends up being either one of the Birdbrains or Steve. Tony would berate him about it…it if wasn’t so much fun to watch.

It’s a strange symbiosis the three of them have.

He wakes up alone after yesterday’s eventful game night with the team – playing Activities with Steve, who couldn’t pantomime a growing tree even if he tried and Clint, who made everything look like a scene from the Hunger Games, was admittedly a bad idea. So he immediately guesses the sad display of skills forced Winter out to calm down in the kitchen…after setting up more pranks for the boys of course.

Shuffling into the bathroom, he takes a quick shower and blow-dries his hair to at least look a little respectable before heading down to the common floor.

“I’m afraid he likes spicy, hot meals. I have witnessed him emptying an entire bottle of tabasco onto his lasagna.”

Tony halts at the sound of JARVIS’s voice.

“That is…barbaric,” Winter replies through the clanking of glass bottles.

“Indeed. He is however allergic to lactose.”

He silently moves toward the open entrance to the kitchen to further inspect the scene.

(read-more ahead!)

“Mortally allergic?” Winter asks with renewed interest.

“No, of course not. But he gets a very bad case of acne whenever he drinks milk or eats chocolate.”

Winter pauses and then takes out the opened bottle of milk out of the fridge. “This will do.”

“Isn’t it a bit early for pranking?” Tony says, putting his hands on his hips, trying to look stern. Although he has to admit the sight of pre-pubertal looking Clint was way too funny the last time he indulged in dairy.

Winter’s usually passive expression ignites with something close to satisfaction as he smirks at Tony. “It is the perfect time. He must suffer for his absolute incompetence,” he says, deep and threatening.

“Yeah, I figured. Go crazy, soldier,” he waves at him, rolling his eyes. Registering the blissful smell of waffles he moves towards the counter but Winter blocks his way, hand raised in a stopping gesture.

“No,” he simply says and points at the table. “Sit,” he commands, slipping past Tony to pull one of the chairs for him.

Tony chuckles and lets the man help him get seated. Bucky is the same way. Holding the doors open, helping out in the workshop with heavy lifting, serving him food first before serving himself…but Winter positively spoils him lately. It was cute at first - now it keeps on escalating and Tony’s not sure what to do about that bit.

A minute later, he is presented with a hefty portion of waffles with a side of whipped cream, mashed strawberries and a cup of coffee. His favorite combination. Not the healthiest, but he can’t but indulge every once in a while. And Winter had figured out this particular pattern very early on.

“Thank you. It smells…divine,” he winks at him and digs in with the fork the former assassin quickly procures for him. He hums in appreciation the second he tastes the dish and oh to hell with health. This is better than life.

Winter just nods and moves back to his pranking mission. That somehow involves JARVIS now. Given their past, Tony is happy to see them working together if only it wasn’t pranking. He almost feels bad for Clint at the moment…almost. They’re just too good at this. Today it’s pranking Clint and tomorrow they’ll be taking over the world!

He watches them work in silence, as they eventually decide to sabotage Clint’s very own bottle of coke with just enough milk to not be noticeable, but still effective. For some reason, Birdbrain dumps his morning cereal into coca-cola…who does that?! That’s just…bizarre. And those tabasco lasagna, too. He’s got some seriously weird…bird…tastes.

When he’s done with the plate – somehow managing to restrain himself from licking it clean – he tries to get up and at least do the dishes but nope. The Soldier is quicker than lightning. He takes the dirty dishes, drops them off to the washer and refills the almost empty cup of coffee - all in a span of five seconds. “Uhhhh…thanks. Next breakfast is on me,” he jokes, but Winter gives him a dead serious look.

“No.”

He rolls his eyes at his antics again and sits back in the comfy chair. “Fine, you can have breakfast. Lunch is usually Steve’s. So dinner’s on me next,” he decides, but the other man’s expression only intensifies.

“No.”

“I can cook, too, you know?” he folds his hands defensively, starting to feel a little offended. He’s Tony goddamn Stark! He creates new elements every other Tuesday, he can handle a dinner!

“Of course you can,” Winter agrees. “I would not ever doubt that.”

“It’s settled then!” he beams at him, not bothered by the man’s profound frown.

 He forgets all about the tiny dispute - until he wants to cook that dinner one day and finds that Winter is already in the kitchen, hard at work. He dismisses it and tries to go for it the next day but no luck, Winter already has meat in the oven by the time he shuffles out of the workshop.

When he complains about it with his perfected pout of doom to Bucky later, the little shit just laughs. “’S nothing, Tony. He’s just so happy when he can cook for ya, let him be.”

So he lets him. It’s not like Tony actually likes to cook anyway. And if Winter is happy then he’s happy. And Bucky’s definitely happy.

The problem is that Winter doesn’t just stop at food.

Spoiling him rotten with all his favorite dishes all the time is one thing, but then he moves on to his laundry. Like, the whole deal.

He sorts to clothes by color, then starts up the washing machine, then the dryer, then he irons the clothes, folds them or hangs them neatly into the wardrobe and depending on the day of the week, he even prepares Tony’s favorite pieces for him come morning.

Big ongoing project in the workshop? There are sweatpants and the AC/DC Tee waiting for him. Wednesday SI shareholder meeting? No problem, there’s that sleek black suit paired with the white shirt and crimson-gold tie. Evening date with Bucky? Winter’s got that covered as well with the dark jeans and a casual T-shirt + black jacket combo. He even picks his underwear for fuck’s sake! So what if Bucky’s a fan of those tight boxers! Yes he is and yes, Tony’s aware and by proxy Winter must be aware, but it’s too much.

“I’m more than capable of picking my clothing, thank you very much!” he tells him one day, when Winter nearly puts his choice of clothes on for him as well.

“Of course you are,” he answers immediately, with the same frown as before with the cooking and actually looks appalled by the very idea of Tony being incapable of something so simple. Incapable of anything, really.

So he lets it go again. But laundry only seems to be the beginning for Winter.

When he’s got food and laundry handled, he moves on to the workshop. He can’t do Tony’s work for him – thankfully – but that sure as hell doesn’t stop him from helping out any way that he can. Within few hours, he learns all about the tools Tony uses, so whenever he finds himself in need of a hammer or a screwdriver, the tool materializes on his worktable. Without him even saying anything! He gets so good at it he just knows what Tony’s gonna need and brings it over in a second. And because he’s a master multitasker, snacks and drinks materialize on his table just as well.

“The tools are five steps away from the bench. I can just walk over there when I need something,” he tells him, not sure what he’s expecting in terms of answer.

“Of course you can.” Is naturally the response he gets.

“Then why do you keep bringing them to me?” he asks patiently.

“Because I can, too. You focus on your work. It looks important,” he adds and gets back to being the tool-bringer.

Tony gives up and just calls out whatever he needs and Winter happily brings it to him. Bucky, the little shit he still is, comments on it later, saying they have a funky surgeon - assisting nurse thing going on in the workshop. 

And just when he thinks it can’t in any way escalate from there, Winter is ready to prove him wrong. With the smallest and silliest things possible!

Like sneaking out and going grocery shopping so early in the morning the bagels are still hot when him and Bucky are having breakfast. Or washing the Tesla after a particularly dusty night out. Or turning the bots into his personal army and commandeering them to behave well and basically recruiting them in on his mission – and they’re listening to him. Hell, JARVIS is listening to him. And aside from pranking, the AI supports him in all his Tony-spoiling endeavors.

In the end, he does the only thing he can do. Complain to his all too entertained boyfriend.

“I’m so done with your obsessive inner assassin, like…so done!”

“Oh?” Bucky raises an eyebrow, looking at him innocently.

“It was cute at first…sweet even, I’ll admit. Watching him become a master chef, bully JARVIS for recipes, be so damn happy whenever he got complimented on his work. But come on, now! He’s like a fucking Mary Poppins these days, just more like a perfectionist butler from hell! I can’t do anything when he’s around! Other than work and…walk. And I bet he’s already getting an MIT degree so I don’t have to work either! It’s only a matter of time before he’s carrying me around, too!”

“He likes doin’ things for you, s’all.”

“Wh…that’s…great and…lovely. But there’s a line! He’s going to extremes now!”

Bucky pauses for a moment and then chuckles, presumably because of whatever Winter says. “Tony…trust me when I say, that compared to the extremes he was planning to go into before agreeing to stick with house chores, him pranking the Avengers and caring for you is what I’d call mild.”

“Oh really? What was he gonna do? Murder everyone but me and then bathe in their blood?” he scoffs, but Bucky doesn’t look amused.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Even if he wasn’t looking so serious, Tony would believe him. Winter does have a proclivity for murder. “Okay. So maybe him being all…,” he flails about with his hands, “…attentive is not as bad as it could be. But I seriously don’t need to be baby’d like this to know that he likes me! I know it makes him happy but we’d all be happier if he…tuned it down. Just a little bit!” he suggests, immediately raising a defensive hand. He doesn’t want to sound like a jerk…especially not to the two of them. “I’m sure we can find some new, exciting hobby for him that doesn’t involve murder and obsessing over me.”

Bucky takes a moment to have his inner conversation with the Other-other guy and the way he smirks afterwards should have been a warning. “I’m sure we can.”

“Good. That’s…great. Now, where were we?” he returns the smirk and winks, resuming the cuddling on the couch. 

Somewhere in the heat of that late night conversation, Tony must have forgotten one very important fact. He can easily blame it on Bucky and the effect he has on his usual perceptive and top notch brain activity. But even then he should have realized that Winter and Bucky are…on the same wavelength. The HYDRA-made assassin has spent every waking minute in the presence of Bucky and his thoughts for the past two years. No Handlers to torment him, no murder orders to carry out…just him and Bucky. And it’s the latter, that’s behind his de facto rehabilitation…and everything he does or doesn’t do these days.

In other words, the two think very much alike.

And Tony doesn’t get a better example or proof of this theory than during the next few days after their talk. Winter no longer escalates things, but then Bucky comes into the picture. And where Winter draws a line, Bucky takes the reins and continues on for him with just as much determination and twice the subtlety. While being the one thing Winter is not quite yet – tactile.

So Bucky distracts Tony with a kiss, or more kisses or a touch…and then he’s suddenly being spoon-fed breakfast in-between. Or his formerly messy work table is in absolute order and ready to be used again. Or his favorite coffee, that Birdbrain hides at the very top shelf so that Tony has to all but build a chair pyramid in order to reach, is presented to him in one, swift ninja move, while Birdbrain’s favorite cornflakes get superglued to the ceiling – not the box; every single cornflake, one by one.

Or like right now.

One moment he’s having a conversation with Bruce while watching some weirdly accurate movie about Mars and the next, he’s being wrapped in a duvet like a damn burrito and then deposited on the other end of the sofa, away from his now openly grinning science bro.

Bucky plops down next to him, kisses his cheek and turns away to watch the movie with a tiny smile playing on his lips.

He looks down to inspect his now…mummified state of being and opens his mouth to complain.

Before his brain to mouth filter gets to fail, he swallows the complaint, realizing two things in rapid succession worthy of the genius that he is.

It’s actually quite nice and comfy… he had been getting a little cold so sure, duvet burrito, why not.

And more importantly, the last time he complained about being pampered to no end, instead of making Winter go easier on it, Bucky joined in. He even started pranking the team when an opportunity presented itself just as much as the former assassin part of him.

It leads him to a very simple conclusion.

The more he’ll complain to the two of them, the more they’ll pamper him. Because that’s what they are – birds of a feather. Who else would Winter learn everything from anyway? Of course it had to be Bucky. And Bucky surely got some lovely pointers from none other than the meddling overlord himself – JARVIS.

Tony sends a fiery glare to the nearest camera, but by the time he turns to his boyfriend, it’s transformed into a squinty pout. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he accuses him in a quiet, offended voice. “Both of you,” he adds, knowing Winter is definitely tuned in on this.

“Damn straight,” he smiles at him…like he’s the happiest person on the planet.

Oh hell…Tony isn’t one to give up a fight. But he’s kinda okay giving up this one. Because maybe some fights are actually worth giving up, if the result is as great as that smile right there.

“Fine…you win. Pamper me senseless,” he melts into the cushions, pout replaced with a content smile.

“That’s…not a euphemism, right?” Bruce sends them a strange look. “Because if it is, I have some work in the lab I can go get back to if you need to…pamper each other, you know?”

Tony bursts out with laughter at Bruce’s horrified expression and Bucky’s now frozen smile. “Shut up and watch the movie, Brucie-bear,” he rolls his eyes and wiggles his hands out of the duvet. “Now, you scoot over here,” he points at Bucky and then at his lap.

He raises a questioning eyebrow but slides a little closer and lets himself be maneuvered against Tony…who then gains the most perfect access to his hair.

“If you two get to meddle with my underwear, I’ll get to braid your hair,” he explains, running his fingers through the man’s wild locks.

“Hmmm…’s nice. Braid me all you want,” Bucky murmurs back, relaxing in the half-embrace.

“I swear, if those are all euphemisms I am turning green and killing you both,” Bruce groans, glaring at them now.

Tony feels, rather than hears the rumble of quiet laughter that erupts in Bucky’s chest and smiles, combing through his hair soothingly. “Careful now with the murder talk, Bruce. Wouldn’t want to wake up Winter now, would we?”

“I hate you all,” Bruce mumbles, but smiles at them anyway.

“Watch the damn movie, boys,” Tony prompts them and focuses on the simple fish tail braid and the warm, comfortable weight that is Bucky - and Winter against him.

~Fin

[sonofadeanwinchester]

You Belong With Me

Summary: You’re best friends with Tom.But he’s pining after your best friend, Tara.

Words: 1,766

Tom Holland x Reader ; Tom Holland x OFC

A/N: This for my girl @marvelouslyme96 .. you deserve this. Based off the Taylor Swift song.

Warnings: Fluff & heartache???

Tags: @221bshrlocked @marvelouslyme96 @shellymaesworld @titty-teetee @pawallday @chameerah @buckylicious @nerdywitch @teresaoliva20 @guera31 @i-should-probably-be-asleep-rn @ssweet-empowerment @jhangelface0523 @sarahp879

**gif not mine**

You're on the phone with your girlfriend

She's upset, she's going off about something that you said

'Cause she doesn't get your humor like I do.

Tom paces my bedroom as he talks on the phone. “Tara, it’s okay.” I roll my eyes when his back is away from me. He’s on the phone with my best friend and his crush. Little did he know that I was head over heels in love with him. “We could always just not do this.” He stops pacing and his face drops. “I’m kidding. Tara, I’m ki-” He throws his phone on the bed and shakes his head. “She hung up one me.”

I pat the space beside me and he crawls up to lay beside me. “She’ll forgive you. She always does.”

He sighs. “You think?” I nod. “Okay, she just doesn’t understand my humor.”

I shake my head and catch myself almost blurting out ‘not like I do’.

I'm in the room, it's a typical Tuesday night.

I'm listening to the kind of music she doesn't like.

And she'll never know your story like I do.

After he gets over Tara and their little spat, he goes through my records and puts on Divide by Ed Sheeran. “Tara hates Ed Sheeran.” I sigh and nod because I know this. She’s my best friend after all and she knows that I like Tom but continues to lead him on. “She always shuts it off when I put it on.”

“You ever think of maybe moving on from Tara?”

He cocks a brow at me. “Why would I do that? She’s finally coming around.”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

He makes a face and continues to sing along with the words. After a few songs go by, he sighs again. “I’m gonna ask her to prom.”

If I was drinking water, now would be the time to spit it out. “You’re what?”

He furrows his brow. “I’m gonna ask her to prom.”

As a lump grows in the back of my throat, I force a smile and nod, even though every word he says breaks my heart.

But she wears short skirts

I wear T-shirts

She's cheer captain

And I'm on the bleachers

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.

Tom sticks around for dinner with my parents but leaves soon after. I lay in bed and let the tears flow down my cheeks. A knock on my door disrupts my thoughts and my mom comes in. “Hey, you alright?”

I try to sit up but she sees my tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes. “Yeah.”

She shakes her head. “What’s going on?”

I shrug. “Nothing.”

“You don’t need to hide things from me.”

“I don’t think that Tom will ever see me the way he sees Tara.”

She nods. “You have feelings for Thomas?”

I nod, fresh tears building in my eyes. “For like two years now.”

She licks her lips, pulling me into her side. “Thomas loves you.”

I roll my eyes. “Not the way he loves her though.” I wipe away a tear. “She’s tall and pretty. And a cheerleader and I’m just .. me.”

She kisses my hair. “There is nothing wrong with you. Thomas just doesn’t know how good he’s got it.”

“Thanks mom.” She kisses my forehead and smiles as she leaves my room. Leaving me to sob myself to sleep.

If you could see

That I'm the one

Who understands you.

Been here all along.

So, why can't you see

You belong with me,

You belong with me.

We sit at the lunch table as Tom describes how he is going to ask Tara to prom. He asks me for my advice and I give him some ideas about what she likes. A tear falls from my eye as he smiles, his eyes glowing. When he catches me eye, his face drops. “Hey, you okay?”

I swallow hard and excuse myself from the table.

Tara comes into the bathroom and finds me scrunched into the corner, tears on my cheeks. “Hey.”

I roll my eyes and fake a smile. “Hey.”

She curls down beside and pats my knees. “Tom said you ran off crying.”

I shrug. “It’s no big deal.”

She cocks a brow. “You never cry in public so there must be good reason.”

“Just having a rough time at home.”

“Bullshit. It’s related to Tom isn’t it?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

I shake my head again. “No.”

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans

I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be.

Laughing on a park bench thinking to myself,

"Hey, isn't this easy?"

The bell for class to end rang and Tom came to my desk. “You wanna walk home together?”

I smile. “Is that even a question?”

He smirks. “You ran off today crying, figured I did something.”

I shake my head. “Of course not.”

We walk down the street, talking and laughing about childhood memories. “God, remember that time that Sam got his head stuff between those posts beside your house?”

Tom throws his head back laughing. “Man! I forgot about that. He must’ve only been like five then.” I smirk, thinking to myself that this seemed so natural. Our conversations came so easy. He chuckles a few times and sits on a nearby bench and sighs. “I wish talking to Tara was this easy. God, she’s been distant lately.”

I nod my head, trying to keep my emotions of my face. “Maybe she’s just going through something.”

He cocks a brow. “Is everything okay at home?”

I shrug. “I guess so. I mean her brother just left for university.”

He stands up, offering his hand to me. “Shall we keep going?”

I nod, a grin spread on my lips. “We shall.”

And you've got a smile

That could light up this whole town.

I haven't seen it in a while

Since she brought you down.

My mother invites Tom inside for dinner which he accepts so graciously. “Thomas, have you found anyone to take to prom yet?”

I felt my lungs collapse, my heart dropping into my stomach. He smiles and my knees go weak. That smile could bring the world peace. He breathes out, running a hand through his curly locks. “I’m actually thinking about asking Tara.”

My mother’s eyes go wide and she eyes me. “Tara?” He nods. “She’s a very nice young lady.” He smiles again, nodding. My mother clears her throat. “(y/n), have you found anyone?”

My face grows red. “I had someone in mind but I think they already found a date.”

Tom’s eyes grow wide. “What? Who were you gonna ask?”

Panic sets in and I pick the first name that comes to mind. “Nick from Psych.”

He makes a face. “Nick? Aren’t his parents like super religious? They probably wouldn’t even let him go.”

I snap my fingers. “Darn it. Looks like I’m not going.”

He shrugs. “You could just join Tara and myself.”

I snort. “Third wheel?” He shrugs. “I’m not-. No, thank you but no.”

We finish eating in peace and Tom leaves afterwards, thanking my mother for the meal.

You say you're fine I know you better than that.

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

My phone starts ringing at just after midnight. Checking the screen, I see Tom’s brilliant smile light up. I answer, sleep in my voice. “Hello?”

Tom’s on the other line, his voice dry. “(y/n).”

I sit up straight. He only ever calls this late if something bad has happened. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He sighs. “Nothing, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Tom, are you okay?”

He chuckles. “I’m fine.”

“I know you better than that. What’s up? Is it Tara?”

Another sigh escapes his lips. “How do you always know what’s going on in my head?”

“Because we’ve been friends since we were like six.”

“I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

That’s all I’m ever going to be.

She wears high heels,

I wear sneakers.

She's cheer captain,

And I'm on the bleachers.

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you're looking for has been here the whole time.

If you could see

That I'm the one

Who understands you,

Been here all along.

So, why can't you see

You belong with me

Friday night after the football game, I walk myself back to my house. Tom was too busy trying to win over Tara to be bothered. I never asked him, but I want him to be happy and if thinks that’s with her then I’m gonna support him. I’m in my pj’s, crawling into bed when I hear pebbles being thrown at my window. I peek out seeing Tom standing there, stones in his hands. Swinging it open, I giggle. “Why didn’t you use the front door?”

He shrugs. “I hear this is more romantic.”

“Romantic?”

His eyes soften. “Tara told me.”

What the hell did she tell him? “What did she tell you?”

“Can we talk?”

I nod. “I’ll come downstairs.”

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor.

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me,

You belong with me

“What’s up?”

Tom steps closer to me and smiles, his eyes soft. “Why did you never tell me?”

I cock a brow, “Tell you what?”

He laughs. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

Oh, I remember you driving to my house

In the middle of the night.

I'm the one who makes you laugh

When you know you're 'bout to cry.

I know your favorite songs,

And you tell me about your dreams.

Think I know where you belong,

Think I know it's with me.

“Tom I don’t know what yo-” Before I can finish my sentence, his lips are pressed against mine. He steps back. “What was that for?”

He rolls his eyes. “I asked Tara to prom tonight and she said no.”

“Oh. Tom I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “She said no because she knew how you felt about me.”

I chew my lip. “I just want you to be happy.”

He leans in, his forehead resting against mine. “I’m happy.”

“But Tara said no.”

“Stop talking for three seconds and listen. You’ve been sitting in front of me my whole life. I was always too focused on someone else to notice how perfect you are for me.”

[jxpper]

I’m Sure They’re Fine

Joyce and Hopper are going out on their first date night alone. Of course, the parents weren’t too keen on leaving Will, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, Jane, and Max with Steve to babysit. The parents only asked one thing of the group - Don’t burn the house down!

Rated T for Language and other things implied

2.2k words

Six months without a single date. Joyce and Hopper had hit every base necessary to their relationship, hugs, kisses, much more intimate moments, along with arguments and more. But not once did they ever go out on an official date night out,

That was until the night of December 18th, 1985. Joyce had managed to find a wearable black dress in the bottom of her closet. She was surprised that it even fit since she hadn’t worn it since junior year of high school.

Hopper finally shed out of the beige police uniform for something a little more comforting. Black pants with a green button up shirt, and a groomed face. At least he didn’t cringe in the mirror.

Jonathan already had standing plans with Nancy when Hop and Joyce agreed to a spontaneous date. The two nervous parents agreed that Steve Harrington would be the best option for babysitting…saying that ever so loosely. The truth was, he was their only option.

They didn’t mind him alone to watch the kids when the frantic moments of demon possession and gate closing came along – until they found a sedated Billy on the floor and a frozen demodog in the freezer. But tonight would be different, hopefully. No demons, no demogorgons, no anesthetized assholes, just a fun night for everybody.

Luckily, Steve had arrived at the Byers’ house with a car full of kids, as usual. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Max had arrived for a night with Will and Jane.

Both Joyce and Hopper agreed her house would be safer grounds for Jane to stay rather than the Wheelers’ home. Still being careful about where she goes and with who, Hopper knew that it was easier for everybody.

“Damn, Mrs. Byers! Got a hot date tonight?” Dustin knowingly joked, earning him a smack from Lucas and a playful glare from Joyce.

As the boys argued over whether that was too ‘presumptuous’ or not, Joyce gathered her keys and cigarettes into her purse. She wanted to yell at Hopper for being late when there was still five minutes until he was supposed to show up.

Part of her was so nervous that she wanted to get it over with already. The other part was just her anxiety trying to come up with reasons why they shouldn’t go. Joyce continued her attempts to override her panic as she waited for Hopper.

A partial knock sounded at the door before Hopper stepped in with Jane in tow.

“Joyce! Hopper said you’d ’look like a snack’ but I don’t know what that means. But you do look good though!” Jane laughed as she hugged Joyce. He must not have realized he was talking out loud when he ran over this date in his mind.

“I didn’t say that! She sure uh… she sure has a colorful imagination.” Hopper mumbled with a nervous groan as he nudged his daughter off to the party.

“Well, you’re looking pretty dapper yourself.” Joyce smiled as she adjusted the collar of his shirt. “Are you ready to go?”

“More than you’ll ever know.” Hop chuckled as he kissed her forehead. “You look stunning by the way.” She looked less like a snack and more like a three-course meal with dessert.

“Thanks, it’s nothing really.” She lied right through her teeth. It had taken almost an hour and an entire bottle of cleaner to scrub the vomit stain out from the ‘58 winter formal. Karen had added a little bit too much schnapps into her drink and Joyce was left to carry the sick teen home.

“Alright, pizza will be here in an hour. Do not stay up past 11:30, alright? I’ll call and check on you if I’m not home by then. The roads are nasty so no leaving either. Please don’t burn the house down while we’re gone.” Joyce looked around for confirmation of the group.

“Alright, bye.” Joyce kissed the top of Will’s head before Steve assured her he had it under control. She didn’t believe him for a second but Hopper had rushed her out before any other argument.

From the house to the restaurant, their conversation was built around how their day went. Jim could tell that Joyce was clearly nervous about leaving the kids alone in her house, but he didn’t want that to ruin their night.

As Hop pulled into a parking space and turned the car off, he rested his hand on her knee. "I’m sure they’re alright.“ He said with a comforting smile. It had only been fifteen minutes, what was the worst that could’ve happened?

“You put that lighter down right now Dustin James Henderson or so help me God!” Steve yelled as he chased the fourteen-year-old around. Dustin ran through the halls laughing as the flame from the lighter billowed.

Hopper opened the restaurant door for Joyce as they walked in. His hand on her back certainly calmed her down but not enough to stop worrying.

“Reservation for two, under Hopper.” He nodded and the hostess grabbed their menus. They were in the fanciest Italian restaurant that the next town over had to offer. Jim had certainly gone all out on this one.

“Wow, Hop. This is really out of our ballpark of Doritos and beer at midnight during Golden Girls reruns.” Joyce joked as he pulled her chair out for her.

“You deserve it, Joyce. It’s been a rough couple of years. You deserve a nice night out.” Hop replied as he glanced around their table. This was the first time in months that he would be eating with actual silverware..

“Thank you, I really appreciate all of this,” Joyce said with a soft smile while she opened her menu.

The worry of leaving the kids home had caught up with Jim while he looked over the wine menu. Did he really trust seven kids home alone while he and Joyce ate steak?

“Jane! Stop trying to lift the lighter out of his hand! If he drops it, the whole house is gonna go down!” Steve yelled as Jane continued trying to move the flame out of her friend’s hand. Obviously, Dustin was doing this to get a rise out of Steve, but it was just getting annoying.

“I’m sure the kids are fine.” Joyce and Hopper mumbled in unison as the worries continued to plague their nice evening.

As the waiter came and went with their order, Joyce nervously swirled her wine glass. “Should I call them and just make sure they’re okay?”

“If it will make you feel better, they’re probably just playing video games and eating pizza.” Hop tried to comfort her when he was actually trying to comfort himself.

“I think I’ll call, just for peace of mind.” Joyce murmured before excusing herself. As she made her way to the payphone outside, she fished a quarter out of her purse.

“Shut the fuck up, everybody! The phone is ringing!” Steve snapped as Lucas yelled at Dustin for swinging the lighter in the air.

“Steve?” Joyce asked nervously as the phone clicked on.

“Joyce, everything alright?” Steve asked. It was evident from her voice that she was antsy and nervous.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? How are things going?” Joyce asked as she lit a cigarette.

“Everything is fine.” Steve lied nonchalantly. Dustin was running through the house with a flaming lighter, Jane was trying to use her powers to stop him, Lucas and Max were yelling for him to stop, while Mike and Will screamed over the Atari.

“Al-alright… Hop and I are gonna finish up here. We will be home soon. Make sure everybody cleans up the pizza plates.” As Joyce continued to prolong the conversation, she carefully listened for any signs of distress in the household.

“Will do, Mrs. B. Enjoy yourself tonight. We’re all just hanging out.” Steve’s voice sounded like a smile but truthfully he was plotting Dustin’s death with each passing second.

“Alright bye.” Even with a reassuring call ended, Joyce didn’t feel the slightest bit better about the situation.

“Everything alright at the house?” Hopper asked as Joyce trailed back into the restaurant.

“Yeah, Steve said they were all doing alright,” Joyce replied as she slid back into her seat.

“Joycie, they’ve been home alone a million times. I’m sure it’s gonna be okay.” Hop rubbed his thumb over her hand as he searched for recognition in her eyes.

“They’ve never been alone altogether, not like this at least. Just motherly instincts, you know?” She asked with a sip of wine and a bite into her food.

“I understand. The first few weeks that Jane was at the cabin, I thought I was going insane with the idea of leaving her alone. If anything, I’m sure Will is holding down the fort.” Hopper smiled.

“The fire extinguisher is in the cabinet next to the stove! No! The other side of the stove!” Will shouted as Steve riffled through the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s always been the adult of the group, in my opinion, him and Mike at least. I’m sure it’s nothing.” Joyce laughed as she hooked a green bean on her fork.

“Pull the pin to make it work you, you idiot! You have to pull the pin!” Dustin shouted as Steve fussed with the fire extinguisher.

“This is all your fault! If you weren’t being a squirrely ass with the lighter, trying to be a dick, this wouldn’t have happened!” Steve shouted back before the extinguisher gushed with white foam.

“Yeah, it’s Henderson I’m worried about. Trouble just seems to follow that kid like it’s his shadow.” Hopper finally managed to make Joyce full-blown laugh. It was nice to see her smile nowadays. Even as the grin became more frequent, Hopper didn’t want to take it for granted. There had been too many days where that smile wasn’t even a thought.

The nervous pool in her stomach was growing again and much more rapidly. Joyce’s smile was defeated with a frown while her foot tapped anxiously.

“I’m sure they’re fine. What’s the worst that could happen?” She asked, trying to reassure herself it was all fine.

“Jesus H Christ! How dry is this Christmas tree?” Steve groaned as the tree seemed to become more and more enveloped in flames with each moment passing.

“I’ll get a bucket of water!” Dustin shouted as he ran off to the kitchen.

“Unplug the tree lights first!” Max shouted just as Dustin was about to dump the pail of water onto the tree.

“They can’t do much. It’s not like they could burn the house down.” Just as the words escaped Hopper’s mouth, they both felt a welt of worry grow in their guts. Their nervous glances met and no words were needed.

“I’ll pay the tab, you go pull the truck around.” Hopper tossed her his keys and she jet-packed out the door. Hopper chucked a couple Jackson’s on the table and ran out to the blazer.

“Let’s just call 911, they can come and put it out before they get home!” Mike suggested as the flames on the tree grew bigger.

“The chief is gonna kill us!” Lucas groaned nervously while Max ran to the phone to call 911.

Hopper had to admit one of the sexiest things he had ever seen was Joyce Byers in a black dress and in the driver’s seat of his blazer. That was definitely going into his bank of perfect memories.

As they drove through the dark and snowy roads, Hopper flipped on the lights and left Joyce to drive faster.

Hitting the outskirts of Hawkins, Joyce heard what sounded like a firetruck coming from the west.

“Dear God.” Hopper groaned as he rubbed his face with his palms.

“You don’t think?” Joyce asked nervously as she floored the gas.

“No, it can’t be. Just a coincidence.” His words were, of course, no solace to either of the worried parents.

When the police blazer finally touched the road the Byers’ house resided on, Hop and Joyce both saw the firetruck heading towards her house.

“For fuck’s sake!” They both groaned angrily. “I swear to God, Hop. They burned my house down.” Joyce didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the irony.

Pulling into the driveway, she saw three firefighters carrying a scorched tree out of her house. Seven teenagers stood outside shamefully as one of the firefighters was clearly chastising them.

“What on God’s green earth happened?” Hopper shouted as the two of them shot out of the blazer.

Six of them looked over at Dustin with a furious expression. No words were needed to explain that Henderson had caused the uproar.

Joyce groaned inwardly before collapsing into Hopper. Rubbing her back shamefully, Jim looked around at the worried faces of the teens.

“The tree was the only damage. Once we got in here, we were able to put it out. You got lucky this time.” The fire chief nodded towards Hopper as if they were having a mental conversation.

“Alright. I think we can both agree that Doritos, beer, and Golden Girls reruns are our best bet from now on.” Hopper joked, causing Joyce to laugh with shame.

“Not for a second was I sure that they would be fine." 

[smudgedtoon]

Daily living/Domestic life

(So this is a way late day 6 for @lapamedotweek, anyway enjoy)

“Hey.”

Amethyst felt her hair tugged. She swatted at her assailant as she groaned. Another tug, sharper this time had her up and glaring around the room. She didn't recognize this room, her breathing hastened. “What the hell…”

A giggle caused her to jump and she looked around for the sound but saw no one.“Hello?”

Another giggle and then a girl with huge mane of blond hair appeared beside the bed.“You said a bad word.” The girl said with a smile that held hints of malice. “How come you can, I can't?”

Amethyst stared at the child shell shocked, she looked familiar, almost as if they could be related. Amethyst opened her mouth to ask the girl who she was but closed it when the door opened.

“Lapis?” Amethyst asked the woman standing in the door smiling warmly at her.

“Who else would it be?” The woman said, “Were you expecting Peridot?”

This woman did look like Lapis, except older. The bags that constantly plagued her were still there baggier and darker. She'd grown out her hair but it was still that gorgeous shade of blue. Amethyst watched as she looked down to the child and frowned.

“Mal, were you messing with Mamatheyst?”

The girl scowled and looked down before looking back up at Lapis defiantly. “No.”

“Mamatheyst?”

Lapis looked from Mal to Amethyst and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you. Are you feeling okay?” She entered the room and put an hand on Amethyst forehead. “You feel a bit warm, should we call the doctor?”

“I'm fine.”

“But the baby…”

“Baby?”

As if on cue she felt her stomach jolt. She looked down to find her stomach extended and stretching the fabric of her sweatpants.

“Oh.”

Lapis cupped her chin and examined her face. She look really concerned. “Are you sure? We can get someone to watch Mal instead of you while you're on maternity leave.”

Amethyst put on a grin. “Aww you care about me.” She had decided to play along with whatever was happening, maybe she'd suddenly wake up.

“Of course.” Lapis said giving her a kiss before straightening up. “Well if you're okay I'm going to head to the studio. Peridot dropped off meals for you and Malachite to eat until she stops by again or I get home.”

Amethyst nodded again trying to hide the confusion. What studio? And why was Peridot delivering meals. Her thoughts were interrupted as she heard Lapis speak to the little girl, No, Malachite Amethyst reminded herself. My daughter….

“Mal, you better behave. No leaving this house without your mother or aunt.”

Malachite pulled a face at the mention of an aunt, but otherwise remained quiet. Lapis bent over and gave her a kiss goodbye before leaving.

The two stayed in relative silence until they heard what Amethyst assumed was the front door close. Amethyst took a deep breath and went through what she already knew, she'd woken up to a daughter, was pregnant and apparently she and Lapis were still together. “Hey Mal, you like games right?”

“No shit.” Malachite said crossing her arms and scowling, Amethyst stomach lurched and it wasn't the baby that expression was so familiar but she couldn't place it.

“No shit huh?” Amethyst chose her next words carefully. “I have a new game.”

“Is it like slaughter your enemies?” Mal said a smile replacing her scowl. “Or My Tiny Equine escape from the dark masters?”

Amethyst shook her head, guessing from the titles what she had in mind was nothing like that. “Nope it's called uhhhh…. Detective- Purple.”

“What did you forget?”

Amethyst stared at the girl horrified, she'd seen right through her. Her brain stalled for a second as she tried to come up with a lie.

“You don't have to make up an excuse, you're always forgetting things.” Malachite said crossing her arms and jutting out a hip. Amethyst noted with some amusement that she had the mean girl bitchy pose down and she had to around five or a little older.

“Alright then, say I forgot everything…”

“Even me?”

The question sent a ping panic or dread through Amethyst. She quickly hopped up or tried, her stomach made it difficult. Once she was up she waddled over to Mal and hugged her, that's what moms do, right. “Of course not. I'd never forget you. I meant what if I forgot what I'm supposed to be doing, like right now.”

Mal nodded sullenly and didn't return the hug, Amethyst could tell the little girl didn't quite believe her. Mal thought for a moment and that wicked smile returned. “I'll help you -”

“Really.”

“For chocolate pancakes.” Mal said pulling a face that reminded her of Lapis whenever she was interrupted.

“Sure.”

The smile Mal gave her this time was void of all ill intentions, the smile of a happy kid.

Amethyst grinned and ruffled her hair. “Alright squirt, lead the way to the kitchen.”

An hour later she and Mal were seated at the kitchen table happily eating the double chocolate chip pancakes they'd made together. The kitchen was a wreck, flour lined the counters and bits of batter were on the floor from when they'd had a mini food fight. During the time they cooked Mal had filled her in. Amethyst had discovered she was six months pregnant, Lapis and her lived together ever since they'd officially adopted Malachite. She'd also found out Mal’s aunt was Peridot whom Mal stated didn't really like her and vice versa.

Amethyst ate her last bite of pancakes and stood up to clear off the table. As she was walked past the fridge she noticed a slip of paper stuck underneath a magnet. Pulling it she peered, it was a list of chores, written in cursive writing that could only be Peri’s.

“Mal, what's this?” Amethyst said as she handed her the list.

Mal squinted at it before handing it back. “Peri- I mean Auntie, makes these for you and mom cause she says you both deserve a clean place.”

“What about you?”

The little girl shrugged. “I guess, I mean she doesn't like me, she always looks at me funny.”

“Well I think you're awesome.”

Mal’s face turned red with blush but she shook her head. “Whatever, you have to say that cause you're my mom.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon completing chores and bonding. While they waited for the laundry to dry they played one of Mal’s games the tiny equine one. It involved a lot of make believe with little pastel toys ranging from horses to zebras, they fought to the death with their mortal enemies a bunch of toys from the Extreme Breakfast Friends.

"Hello?” A voice called from the front door.

“Peri?”

Peridot made it into the living room, and Amethyst just gawked, she'd changed the most. Her hair was no longer gelled up, but it still was blond with a chunk of green. She was dressed in a green button up and black slacks. The most stunning change was the full sleeve that covered her right arm.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Peridot wipe at her face, and she noticed two thing or rather three. Peridot’s ring finger was adorned with two bands each sporting small gems stones of purple and blue respectively, and Peridot wasn't wearing glasses.

“You're not wearing glasses.” She decided that was the safest thing to point out. She gave her hands a quick look and realized she had rings of her own though they were tattooed on, how had she missed that this whole time.

“Are you feeling okay?” Peridot said frowning. She looked her over and muttered something about it being baby brain. “My glasses are in the car because Mal always finds a way to break them, I'm wearing contacts right now.”

Mal made an ugly face and muttered. “Only my moms call me Mal, Auntie Peridot.”

“What was that? I couldn't hear you little Mal.” Peridot said with a smile especially when she saw the girl frown at being called little and Mal.

“I'm gonna be taller than you one day, so look out Aung P-spot.” Mal said getting one last jab while she scratched her stomach and walked away.

“She can be such a little clo- no, no I will not let this chil- m-my daughter get under my skin.” Peridot said taking calming breathes as she paced. “I'm going outside to vape.”

Amethyst raised an eyebrow but didn't otherwise say anything. The tone of the other woman’s voice made her feel like this conversation was an ongoing thing. As they walked to the front door she continued. “She thinks I hate her and in return she hates me. She still hasn't forgiven me for not wanting her when she first came into our lives. I was younger and selfish….”

They had made it outside where Peridot had pulled out a tiny vape box with a green alien theme. She pulled from it and exhaled making sure the vapor stayed away from Amethyst, who noted that it smelled like kiwi, blueberry and grapes. “If I didn't love her, I wouldn't be sending her to an impressive private school. I wouldn't make sure her needs are met.” She'd taken another puff, this time the cloud of vapor hit Amethyst and she frowned.

“Uh Peri..” She said as she tried to wave the vapors away. They seem to get thicker and thicker. “Hey give that thing a break for a second.”

There was no response, just more and more vapor. She started coughing, this couldn't be good for the baby. “Stop.”

The only response was more choking smoke. Amethyst continued to cough as she looked for the front door using a hand along the wall to guide her, she couldn't breathe now. Finally she felt a door knob and went to open it only to have more smoke pour out, her coughing was getting violent and she couldn't see, panic begin to set in as she felt herself growing faint, she needed air. That was her last thought as she passed out.

She awoke with a gasp and shot up, headbutting someone. The smoke was still around her and she panicked as she held her forehead.

“The hell dude?” Lapis said as she rubbed her own.

“The baby.” Amethyst said trying to wave away the smoke, which was already clearing.

“What baby, Amethyst you were asleep.” Peridot said, which alerted her to her presence. “Lapis tried to wake you by blowing smoke in your face.”

“She’s the one who fell asleep during the movie.” Lapis said matter-of-factly, “Like she always does when she smokes too much on movie night.”

Amethyst blinked and it all began to fall into place, she'd been smoking with Lapis as they'd been watching the Camp Pining Hearts Movie. And then she'd awoken pregnant. It had all been a weird stoner dream, not bad for her usual weekend.

[youngerdrgrey]

dinners with dad (or, forced attempts at parenting) // a queen sugar fic, part 1

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about... Micah could do without these forced attempts at bonding with his dad. But, if he has to go, maybe he can use them to learn something. How to be a better person, or maybe just how not to act when you betray your whole family and ruin everything. + read on ao3

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i.

Davis grinds his jaw so many times that he can hear the crunch of his own teeth. They’re fine — the teeth — he knows they are; Charley had always insisted that they keep up with their dentist visits and family oral hygiene. Can’t be smiling to millions with a smile anything less than perfect. Unless it’s something cute and genetic, like a little gap that could have the fans going wild or something. She always thought about twenty things at once. And she’d tell him all that stuff too, usually in bed, or over some long phone call while he was in the gym. Now he listens to music when he’s working out, or podcasts when he just misses hearing someone else’s voice. It’d sound pathetic if he said out loud, so he mostly just doesn’t talk about his work outs anymore. Doesn’t talk about much other than the lines Miriam gives him to tell the press. Stuff like, I’m really focusing on the game right now, or I hate the way everything went down, and all I can do now is try to move forward, or Charley’s fine; she’s taking some time with her family right now. Her other family. We’re still — we’re not officially in divorce proceedings yet.

“You’re doing the thing, Dad.” Micah glares up at Davis for a second before dropping his eyes back to the menu. “Wear your nightguard or something. It’s hard to think.”

Davis grinds his jaw again. “I am wearing it. You’d know if you ever took me up on my offer.” Which he’s given at least ten times since officially agreeing to move to New Orleans. “Stay at my hotel a night or two.” Davis ducks his head to try and catch Micah’s eye, but the boy’s stubborn. “I’ve got great service out there. Five star chefs in the kitchen.”

“I’m good at Aunt Vi’s.” He flips over his menu. “Thanks though.”

“Well, let me take you out for something else. The food near the hotel’s—“

“I’ve had plenty of hotel food, Dad.” Micah huffs. "Plenty of all kinds of food around the world, and I still would rather eat at Vi’s. She puts sugar in the spaghetti sauce and always makes some without mushrooms so I don’t have to pick them out.”

He says that like restaurants can’t take requests, like whatever Davis could provide for him wouldn’t be enough.  Like this whole damn world has forgotten how he provided for his family for eighteen years before all this. And suddenly he’s not enough for anyone anymore? Not for the team who resent him for agreeing to leave, and the new team for him bringing his drama over with him. Certainly not for Micah, who has a whole family now and apparently has no use for his father. Fuck, he’s not even enough for his fans anymore; they only tweet him to ask what Charley’s up to and if he’ll ever be able to win her back.

Not that he has a lot of opportunities for that now. She’s too busy running around at her new mill with her new partner. Remy. Who does that guy think he is anyway? Some night in shining plaid shirts? Did Remy even wait before swooping in on Charley? He wiped a few tears, held her close so she got used to finding comfort in his arms instead of Davis’s?

“You eat family dinners a lot over there,” Davis starts, “Just you, Vi, and your mom? Or…?”

Micah’s jaw ticks. Good. Nice to see the boy doing something that comes from Davis. He seems to like pretending they’re nothing alike now. Has his profile on private, but he’d still deleted a bunch of stuff with Davis before he blocked Davis from seeing it.

“Whoever Vi invites gets to eat. So everybody comes through.” His eyes have a glint to them, a warning that tucks right under his endless eyelashes (Charley’s feature) and tells Davis not to push any further. But if Davis only gets one meal a week, why not push?

“That Remy guy come too?”

Micah slaps his menu closed. Dares to stare Davis head on. “Yeah. And he sits right next to Mom when he does. Sometimes Ralph Angel sits on his other side and they bro out over farm stuff that bores everyone else. And he and Nova will walk around the land and talk about the ancestors that are everywhere. And one time ��“ Micah juts up his jaw for this, grinds in to his words and the venom seeping out of them “— he cleaned up after with Mom, just the two of them, in the kitchen, while everyone else went out to see the lights in the garden. I don’t know much of what happened, but I do know it doesn’t take an hour to clean six sets of dishes. Is that what you want to know, Dad?”

“Of course not.” But it’s what he needs to know. His lawyer’s got all kinds of questions about his affairs, but what about Charley’s? What about her place in all this? He fucked up. He’ll own up to that. But she’s the one just giving up on them instead of fighting for their family. She’s the one out here with a replacement and a whole new line of work in seconds as if everything they built together doesn’t mean a damn thing anymore. “Your mother thinks she can do whatever she wants now. She’s out here rubbing him in my face and—“

Micah cuts in, “She could marry him tomorrow and it still wouldn’t hurt as bad as what you did to her. What’d you always say? ‘Hit ‘em where it hurts’ right? But we’re good people, Dad, so me and Mom could never do what you did. Can’t even dream of it.”

“It was one mistake,” Davis starts, but Micah won’t have it. He’s so much like Charley once he gets started. Doesn’t see anything in his blind rage and ambition.

“One long mistake made up of about a million smaller ones. You had an affair, Dad. Multiple affairs. With who knows how many women in how many places.”

“You want numbers?” That’s not gonna help. That’s not gonna change what Davis did, or fix anything. “You’re no better than your mama acting like that.”

Micah shoves himself back into the back of the booth. “Least I’m better than you.” He grinds his jaw once before pushing up and out of the seat. “I’ll have Vi take me home.”

“Whoa! Whoa, hold up. Micah!” Davis calls a litttle too loud. Everyone who hasn’t been looking sure is looking over now. Older folks with their whispers, younger ones with their fingers ready over their keyboards and snapchat stories. The fast waitress behind the counter even drags her eyes away from Davis’s abs long enough to look scared. “Son. Please. Don’t do this.”

Micah bounces from one foot to the other. He’s still got good knees, the kind that could really support him if he wanted to keep playing. If he didn’t fault basketball for everything Davis has done.

“I have a question, Dad,” but that doesn’t mean it’s one he wants an answer to. The lick of his lips means he already knows it. The stank in his nose, the stone in his chest. “If I’d said that to you, during everything, would you have stopped?”

If Micah had seen him, or seen a text maybe. If he’d picked up Davis’s phone and gotten through the passcode to see Goldie confirming hotel suites and asking if he’d like it the same way this time or if he wanted to do something new. If Micah had stared forward (because Micah would never be able to meet Davis’s eyes after that) and pleaded for Davis to stop….

“I would’ve tried.”

But he and Micah both know what an attempt is. Both know that Yoda said it best.

Micah pumps his fist a few times against his leg before he says the quote. “‘Do or do not. There is no try.’” He unravels his fist to wipe the sweat on his pantsleg. “Thanks for the meal."

And that’s that.

.

.

.

[read part two here // check out the fic tag]

[bazzledazzled]

Lipstick + solangelo?

Omgs this is gonna be fun….. >:D

Lot’s of things happen at parties. Some good, some bad. Sometimes you can be tricked with a false sense of security, only to have the rug ripped out from underneath you.

That’s how it was for Nico di Angelo, five feet and four inches of lonely sadness, bundled up in your average fourteen year old.

The biggest problem with Nico was that everyone was scared to get close to him. He was one of those people born with a warning label on his head that screamed, “DANGER!! STAY AWAY!!” Of course that label only became louder when his mom died, then later his sister, leaving him with no one. But nobody even knew as they shrunk against the walls as Nico walked the halls of the old, rundown school. They left him in his dark scary place of a world…. except one.

“Hi!” someone says brightly, stepping into Nico’s path. A bit of sunshine lit up the dark universe.  Nico decided to use his usual tactic for interacting with Will Solace. He looked at his shoes. They where a pair of beat down sneakers that looked ancient. He always wore them, and Nico didn’t know if it was because he liked them, or it was the only thing he had.

“Hello,” Nico says to the shoes, hoping that Will will just leave him alone like everyone else in the school. But it’s Will and he doesn’t.

“Whatcha listening to?” Will says, noticing Nico’s earbuds. Nico’s fingers start to play with the cord, a bit of a nervous habit. Nico takes a deep breath and looks up at Will, preparing himself. Will always made the words die in Nico’s throat and reduced him to a blubbering mess, and this time was no different.

Will was… beautiful. Actually, that word didn’t even begin to describe him. He was more than beautiful. He had sunkissed skin and sparkling blue eyes that reminded Nico of happier times, like eating ice cream under the bright summer sun. His hair was blond and curly, falling loosely over his eyes. He brushed them back with his long slender fingers that Nico could practically sketch from memory. They where worn with calluses from playing instruments like the guitar and sometimes, if you where really lucky, the cello. Will could practically play any instrument, but he was most insecure about the cello, and Nico is the only one (other than Will’s 50 siblings) that had the pleasure of hearing it.

Nico bites his lip, trying to bring himself out of fantasies of just him and the boy before him.

“It’s um… Favorite Record by Fall Out Boy.”

“Oh my god I love that song! Can I listen?” Flustered, Nico nods his head, handing Will one of the earbuds. Will closes his eyes, smiling faintly and nodding his head to the beat of the music. Nico looks at the floor, messing with his sweatshirt strings. Will opens his eyes and turns to him.

“What does this song make you feel?” he asks. It’s a sort of game they’ve been playing with each other ever since they first met about three years ago. They’d listen to what music the other was listening to, and ask why they liked that song, or what emotions stirred in their gut. At first it was a fun little things, but that was before Nico’s emotions got more complicated. That was before his mom and sister died, leaving him with the dad that was never there anymore. That was before he found himself falling for the one boy that would listen.

It makes me think of you. It makes me think of how much I want us to live a perfect life and zone the rest of the world out, just listening to the songs of our hearts, Nico thinks to himself. Instead, he shrugs.

“I don’t know. I guess it just reminds me of happier times.” Will’s joyful smile suddenly turned a little sad. He put his arm around Nico’s shoulders, which caused him to blush.

“Hey! Piper’s having a party later. Do you want to go with me?” Nico’s heart stops. Did he… did he hear him right? Did he just… no. He was just asking if Nico wanted to go to a party in a completely… platonic way. Right?

For once in his life, Will look tense. His hands where at his sides and he appeared to be doing cello fingerings on his jeans.

“S-sure,” Nico says with a blush. He looks at the floor and murmurs, “I have to get to class,” and rushes off, leaving Will with his phone still blaring Fall Out Boy music, but the song had changed to “Alone Together.” I wish we could be alone together, Will thinks as he watches Nico leave.

The doorbell rings, practically scaring Nico. His dad is asleep upstairs. He was never awake when Nico was home. He always worked the longest, latest shifts, which made him tired during the day. Nico missed the days they didn’t have to worry about money and they could sit around the table with one of mom’s home cooked meals, laughter bubbling out of their throats.

Nico made his own dinner now. Unless the Solace’s where nice enough to allow him to stay for theirs.

He stood up, brushing the crumbs off his jeans. He opened the door to reveal sunshine that hurt his eyes. Both literally and figuratively.

“Hi!” Will says, giving a small wave. It was always disorienting when Will came to the di Angelo house, considering that everything was so dark and gloomy and he was…. not. But for some reason he liked it more than his own home. Nico still didn’t understand why.

“Why are you here?”

“What? I thought we had a party to go to.”

“But aren’t parties late at night? It’s only…. four pm? Geez did you come straight here after school or something?”

“Noooooo,” he thinks for a second. “Yes.”

“Wiiiillllllll–”

“I said I’d make brownies. You like making brownies, riiiiggghhhhttt?”

“You know I hate you right?”

“I know,” Will says, skipping joyfully into the house. Nico shut the door, shaking his head. He walked into the kitchen, where Will was already pulling ingredients from the cupboard, flour dusted on his pants. He’s only been in his house for a minute and managed to get flour on himself. Sadly, that wasn’t his record. He’s done it before in fifteen seconds.

Will loves to bake with Nico. Although, when he’s in the kitchen he gets a little controlling and ends up kicking Nico out because he cracked an egg wrong or something, but often Nico would go to the bathroom or something and come back to Will making something else. The first time he came over he made chocolate chip cookies, and they where just as good as Nico’s mom’s cookies.

“Do you even have a recipe?” Nico asks as he pushes himself onto the counter, kicking his legs against the cabinets.

“I’ve memorized it.”

“Why?”

“Because you love them.” Nico blushed. This was true, he was especially fond of Will’s brownies. But Nico knew that probably wasn’t the reason as he gave Will “The Look.”

“Fine. I know all of the recipes by heart I just like to have the actual recipe out to make sure that I get it right. But you keep asking for these goddamn brownies that I can practically make them in my sleep.” Nico snorts.

“Well is there anything I can help you with?” Will opens the fridge to get something out, then looks up at Nico.

“Uh… yeah. Can you go get some eggs?”

They are met at the door by none other that Piper McLean. Her house could probably fit at least 20 of Nico’s, and everything about it is elegant with it’s stone columns like the ancient greeks. There are marble statues in the yard. Who has statues in their yard?

She smiles at Will, who holds the brownies up.

“We brought brownies.”

“Oh thank god. All we got is half a bag of chips and a bottle of pepsi. Come in,” she gestures for them to follow her. Loud music is blaring all around them and people are talking and dancing all over the place. And everything is so nice. Nothing looks like Nico’s run down apartment with it’s plush white carpets and elegant vases and mirrors. So many mirrors. Piper seems to be shying away from them.

“What are you even supposed to do at these things?” Nico asks as Piper leaves to help someone with something.

“Have fun,” Will says simply, like it’s obvious.

“And how am I supposed to do that?” Nico shouts over the loud music. Will gives him a strange look.

“How do you not have fun?” Will asks, “Everyday is another adventure if you make it one.”

“No it’s not. It’s just another chapter of nothingness.”

“Ugh just…. follow me.” Will takes his hand. They’re warm, as if he where nervous. He leads Nico to the center of the crowds of people dancing, which causes horror to build in Nico’s gut. He pulls away.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not doing this.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t dance.”

“Neither can I. That’s the fun of it.”

“No, its not.”

“Well it’s not like people will care.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

Nico finds himself unwinding. Just a little bit. He laughs a little and smiles more, but that’s only the beginning.

“What the frick is this?” Nico says as the music suddenly changes from loud and upbeat to soft and slow. He notices people around them starting to partner up and sway together. Oh no.

“It’s a slow dance. You know what a slow dance is, right Nico?” Nico gulps and nods his head.

“What do we do now?” Will smirks, holding a hand out and doing a showy bow.

“May I have this dance, handsome dark prince?” Will says. Nico’s heart leaps into his throat and his stomach drops to the ground. Did Will just ask him to dance with him? DID HE JUST CALL HIM HANDSOME?! Nico tries to remember how to breath.

“I love you,” he tries to say.

“You’re a dork,” come out as he takes Will’s hand awkwardly. The same thought ran through their head at precisely the same moment. IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?????

Nico blushes as Will takes his hand, placing it on his shoulder. Softly and hesitantly, Will puts his other hand on Nico’s waist, making lightning bolts spark where they touch. Nico blushes a bright scarlet and looks at the floor.

They melt against each other into a puddle of wax. Their chests are pressed together and they can feel each other’s warm breath on their face. Everyone else fades away and they don’t even hear the music anymore. It’s just them.

“Oh god I can’t believe this is happening,” Will says. Nico looks up at him, confused.

“Frickkk. Did I say that out loud?” Nico nods his head.

“Shoot um….” Nico let’s go of Will’s hands.

“Do you not want to dance with me?”

“Wha–”

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? Of course you are, I don’t even know why we’re friends in the first place,” Nico says, looking at the floor and wrapping his arms around himself. 

Then, warm hands are on his chin, lifting his face up and up and up. Will was always taller than Nico. Their lips, Nico realises, are inches apart. It wouldn’t take much effort to kiss him.

“Nico, that’s not it at all.”

“Of course it is. That’s what it always is.”

“No Nico. I can’t believe this is happening because this is something that I’ve been dreaming about for ages. God, all I ever wanted was to have a moment like this…. with you.”

“Why?”

“Because Nico. You’re amazing. There’s so much more to you than what people see on the surface, and I love that. I love you, Nico di Angelo.” Nico is silent, playing with his t-shirt, avoiding Will’s eyes. Heat is rising into his cheeks, even more of it and he finnally looks up at Will, closes his eyes, and leans forward suddenly, pressing his lips to Will’s. Will gasps, then cups the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Slowly, Nico pulls away, looking into Will’s blue eyes, finnally feeling a sense of peace around him. He’s home. This is home.

Will wiggles his eyebrows at Nico, who finds himself giggling. It’s the best music Will has ever heard.

“Now go get me some brownies. I’m starving,” Will says.

“Why do I have toooo,” Nico whines.

“Because I made them and you ate half of them on the way here.”

“Fine. I’ll get you your brownies. I can’t guarantee that they’ll make it back to you though.”

“I know,” Will says, flashing his signature grin. Nico shook his head and walked away, feeling as if he was floating as the moment replayed over and over. I kissed Will Solace. He kissed me back.

Nico walked back from the snack bar with two and a half of the three brownies he grabbed eaten. He looked around the room for Will, wondering where he could possibly be. He wasn’t anywhere though. All he saw were people dancing, people talking, people eating, and one couple making out. Gro–

OH. MY. GOD.

A feeling of dread twisted in his gut as he dropped the brownie in his hand. Sobs tried to work their way out of his gut and he realized suddenly that tears where streaming down his face as he looked at the ground, knowing that he should’ve known better as he felt the betrayal swirl around him. He closed his eyes to try to get the picture out of his mind. But it was imprinted on his eyelids. The picture Will kissing a girl with long dark hair, her bright red lipstick smearing across his lips like blood.

Sniffling, Nico wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, turning away. He should’ve known. He should’ve known. Nobody would want to hang around someone as dark as him. Being with him was too much work. People only pretended to be nice as they shot violent thoughts at him from inside their head, and Will just happened to be one of them. There was never anything between them, and there never will be. Not now. Not ever.

Sometimes, we don’t see the whole truth, and that’s the worst part of anything. Sometimes people hide things or sometimes you don’t stay long enough to see the whole story.

“What the fri–” Will says, pushing the girl off and wiping the lipstick off his face, gagging a little.

“What’s wrong with you?” he says. She smirks.

“What? I figured a pretty boy like you would love to have a little fun.”

“Fun? Fun? You call that fun? What the hell?”

“Why does it matter? Maybe you can find yourself a girlfriend,” she says, looking at him innocently.

“I’m gay,” he says, leaving her to stare stunned. They where leaving. He was going to grab Nico and get them the hell out of here. Except…. when he went over to the snacks, he was nowhere to be seen. What?

“Hey Piper, have you seen Nico?”

“Who–oh! Your boyfriend!” Will blushes and nods his head.

“Oh he left like ten minutes ago. I thought you went with him.”

“I–no.” He probably went home. Maybe it there where too many people here and he just couldn’t handle it. Yeah.

“Thanks Piper. Tonight was lovely, but I’m going to be heading out,” he says, grabbing his coat.

“Okay! See you around!”

“Yeah.” And with that, he left into the dark streets of Long Island, New York, lights flickering above him as he raced towards Nico’s house, not knowing about the hurricane that was about to hit.

Nico opened the door and then proceeded to slam it in Will’s face before he could say a word. Will knocked on the door again, wondering what Nico could possibly be angry about this time.

“Nico come onnnn. It’s cold out here.”

“Good. You can freeze to death for all I care.”

“Nicooooooooo–”

“Go away, Solace.”

“But Nico…. why are you mad at me?” Through the door he hears Nico make an angry snorting sound.

“Why am I mad at you? Why am I mad at you? Hmm… I don’t know was it the fact that you lied to me or that you thought it would be fun to play with my emotions? Experiment a little to see what I would do.”

“Nico what are you talking about. Open the door,” Will says, knocking again.

“No. You’re not allowed back here. Ever.”

“Nico what are you–”

“GO AWAY!” Will’s heart twisted with the pure hatred dripping in Nico’s voice.

“I HATE YOU, WILL SOLACE. I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. YOU’RE JUST LIKE THE REST OF THEM. I should’ve known….”

“Nico what did I do–”

“You know perfectly well what you did. Told me I was special, made me feel like maybe, for once, the world wasn’t out to get me, and then go behind my back and kiss someone else, as if I never meant anything to you.”

“Wha–” Oh. Oh no. Nico saw that girl trying to kiss him. Oh god no this wasn’t supposed to happen. Everything was perfect, and she ruined it.

Will sunk down onto the ground, leaning his head back onto the door, looking at the heavens. Rain was starting to drip down and it streamed down his face, mixing with his tears and soaking his shirt.

“Nico you don’t understand….. she pushed herself on me. I never even knew who she was. In fact, I hated kissing her. There is nobody I’d rather kiss, except you.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” Will is silent. Then–

“Fine. If you want to believe it, fine. But think about this. If I didn’t actually like you, Nico, why would I have dedicated all of my free time to coming over your house and making sure you where okay? Why do you think I make brownies all the time when really I don’t like brownies–”

“YOU DON’T LIKE BROWNIES??? NEXT YOU’LL SAY YOU DON’T LIKE CATS.”

“Oh god they give me awful allergies, but I stick with them, for you, Nico. Ever since I first met you, I knew that you where special, and I always wanted to be with you. Always.” There is silence. A long silence.

“Nico?” The door opens, causing Will to fall back, looking up at Nico’s tear streaked face.

“You’re such a sap, you know that?” Will manages to smirk.

“What can I say? It’s in my blood.”

“You’re a dork.”

“You’re a bigger dork.”

“I…. I love you.”

[justlookfrightened]

Second part of Neighbors AU, Chapter 10

Read Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Read it on AO3

Jack pulled at his tie and let his bag slip to the floor while he waited for the elevator. He checked his watch: 3:20 a.m. And it felt like every joint in his body ached. Three games in five days in three cities as the season turned toward the homestretch. He thought about the door sliding open and Eric stepping out, like he had the first time they’d seen one another, but it was too early for that. Eric wouldn’t be leaving for the bakery for another what, hour and a half? But the lateness of the hour made it clear why Eric had gently said he’d be asleep in his own bed, in his own apartment, when Jack came home. Eric would have to get up in less than an hour, and he didn’t need Jack waking him now. And as much as Jack wished he could slip in between already-warm sheets and press up against Eric, letting his slow, rhythmic breaths lull him to sleep, he wouldn’t want to be awakened by Eric’s alarm minutes after he dropped off.

He’d see Eric later, he knew that. But the idea of waiting until almost midday, when he would be likely to wake up, hurt. It twisted something in his gut to know that Eric was upstairs, just steps from his apartment, and Jack was going to go up and not see him, then go to sleep and when he woke up, Eric wouldn’t be there anymore.

Crisse,Jack thought. What’s happened to me? He took the elevator up, used his key to let himself in, and smiled at the pie and note on the counter. Apparently, welcome-home pie was going to be a thing. He could live with that. The note reminded him that there was food in the refrigerator and prepared meals in the freezer, and asked if Jack wanted to go to the rink with Eric on Saturday. A question that hardly needed to be asked since they had talked about it while Jack was gone. He supposed Eric was giving him a way out if he was too tired. He wouldn’t be too tired, certainly not too tired to watch Eric as he danced and leapt and spun, his blades flashing silver while his hair sparked gold. It was 3:25 and he was tired and he hurt and he was thirsty and he hadn’t eaten since 11 p.m. Going to bed without water and nutrition wouldn’t be wise, he told himself. He didn’t need a whole meal from the freezer, just some carbs and protein to keep himself going, let his muscles start to rebuild themselves. Well, he could certainly scramble an egg and make toast. Especially since Eric had left some of the good bread. And he never wanted to sleep right after eating, so he unpacked his bag, dumping dirty clothes in the hamper, rehanging one suit, putting the other in the bag for the dry cleaner. 4:15. Eric should be waking up now. Jack opened his door enough that he could see and hear when Eric left his apartment, and settled down with a well-thumbed copy of “Guns, Germs and Steel.” Sure enough, just after 4:30, Jack heard the whoosh and snick of Eric’s door opening and closing. He got up and opened his door all the way, stepping out as Eric approached the elevator. “Jack!” Eric said, pulling his earbuds out and pulling Jack into a hug. “Why are you awake? Was your flight late? Did you just get home?” “I got home about an hour ago,” Jack said, drawing Eric into the elevator by the hand when the door opened. “I really didn’t want to sleep until I saw you, and I didn’t want to wake you early, so I figured I’d just wait. Can I walk you to the bakery?” “Of course,” Eric said, still smiling at him. “Lord, I missed you. Jack dropped Eric’s hand when they left the elevator -- sure it was before 5 a.m., but there were a handful of early runners and late party-goers out -- but they walked close enough together for Eric’s shoulder to occasionally brush the top of Jack’s arm. Jack told Eric about the games -- a 2-1 win over Charlotte and 3-0 shutout over the Panthers -- and Eric talked about the bakery. Neither of them brought up the Twitter mess from earlier in the week. When Eric unlocked the door and let himself in, Jack followed. He walked through the front into the back, making sure they were really alone, then pulled Eric close and kissed him. “If I wake up before you leave, I’ll walk you home, too,” Jack said. “You need to sleep,” Eric said. “Don’t worry about me. I’m gonna need a nap this afternoon anyway.” “Then come and take it with me,” Jack said. “Then we can get up and go to the rink.” “If that’s what you want,” Eric said. “I’ll remember to bring something for Rich. You want anything special for supper?” “Whatever you want is good,” Jack said. “As long as you’re there.”

**************************

Sugar ‘n’ Spice was busy all day, busier than usual for a Saturday, but that had been par for the course this week. Eric had hardly stopped moving all day when it finally quieted down at around 1 p.m. There were still a few customers at the tables, but the line was gone and Dex assured Eric that he could handle it for now and would let Eric know if he needed help. “Thanks, Dex,” Eric said. “I’ve got to make the menu for next week and get some orders in if I don’t want to end up coming in both days this weekend.” “Falcs are home tomorrow, aren’t they?” Dex said, with a little bit of a smirk. “Don’t you chirp me,” Eric said. “But yes.” His phone buzzed almost as soon as he sat down. Matthew. “Garrrh. Is he watching me?” Eric said under his breath. It was an unfair thought; if Matthew was going to call, he usually did it around now, after lunch but well before Eric left for the day. “Hi, Eric,” Matthew said. “I just wanted to check on how things were going. I’ve been watching the receipts -- it seems like you’ve been busier than usual this week. Everything going all right?” “Fine,” Eric said. “Just kind of run off my feet. I’m thinking we need to bring Derek Nurse a few more hours.” “Maybe,” Matthew said. “Can you tell him it’s temporary, until we see if the increase in business lasts?” “Sure,” Eric said. “I can do that. And if he can take over some of the front-of-house work, I can bake more and deal with the paperwork and everything.” “Any more of that social media stuff going on?” Matthew asked. “That’s when you started to get busy.” “Nothing new, really,” Eric said. “We’ve gotten more followers, though, and I’ve noticed a few new regulars, so that’s good. But I wish it didn’t come with people making ridiculous claims about me or a friend of mine.” “So Bob Zimmermann’s a friend?” Matthew asked. “Well, yes,” Eric said. “You saw the pictures. I was sitting with him at a hockey game and at dinner, and he wanted to see the kitchen here, so he helped with the prep for Falcs breakfast last weekend.” Matthew let out what looked like a low whistle. “Sounds like the claims people making weren’t that big of a leap,” Matthew said. “Defensive much?” “Oh, come on,” Eric said. “Don’t tell me you believed it?” “Not really, no,” Matthew said. “I mean, come on, his wife is still hot. How did the two of you get so close?” “Remember I told you one of the Falconers lives in my building?” Eric said. “It’s Jack Zimmermann. We got to talking, and then he started coming in to the bakery, and brought some stuff to the team. That’s how I got in with them. Then Bob and Alicia were visiting last weekend, and I ended up going to the game too, and we hit it off.” Eric stopped abruptly, realizing he was rambling. Everything he said was true, as far as it went, and he didn’t want to say more. “It’s amazing how fast that took off on Twitter,” Matthew said. “I didn’t realize until you came down to talk at the Boston site how powerful that can be for marketing.” “Well, usually the daily specials don’t get so much attention,” Eric said. “People love gossip. But one reason the Falconers like to come here is that we don’t treat them like celebrities, and our regulars are good about that too.If people spread rumors about them and it’s connected to the bakery, they won’t come around.” “They’re back in town, aren’t they?” Matthew said. “Uh, yes,” Eric said. “When did you become a hockey fan?” “I just started following them a couple of weeks ago,” Matthew said. “When I found out my bakery was one of the Falconers’ favorite spots.” Something clicked in Eric’s mind. “Huh,” he said. “That’s when the person who started the whole Twitter thing made their account. And they followed the bakery and the Falconers right away. It took them a little longer to find my personal Twitter.” Matthew was silent. “All I know is that if it doesn’t stop, the Falconers won’t be using us anymore,” Eric said. “They can’t figure out why anyone would go after Bob Zimmermann, though.” “Maybe they just thought it would be a good joke, and no one would believe it.” Matthew said. “Maybe they didn’t want to start something with one of the current players because maybe it would cause too much trouble.” “Maybe,” Eric said. “Maybe if someone spreads any more rumors about me online I’ll have to quit. For the good of the bakery.” **************************

After leaving Eric at Sugar ‘n’ Spice, Jack took himself home, stripped down to his boxer briefs and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow. He slept straight through until noon, then got up and put one of Eric’s prepared meals in the oven to heat. He showered and dressed in track pants and a gray Falconers T-shirt, checked his lunch and picked up his phone. He thought about calling Eric to check in, but decided against it. He didn’t want to smother. Instead, he turned the TV on and queued up a Netflix documentary to watch while he ate. He was just getting into it when he heard his phone vibrate on the kitchen counter. He thought about not getting up to get it; he didn’t want to be one of those people who was constantly attached to his phone, and he was comfortable with his plate on his lap. Before Eric, he would have ignored it. Before there was anyone he wanted to talk to on the phone. But now there was Eric, and maybe he had something he wanted to tell Jack, so Jack put his plate on the coffee table and pushed himself off the couch, with the thought that by the time he got there, whoever was calling would have left a message anyway. The phone vibrated again, and he realized the joke was on him: it wasn’t a call, but a text. Well, he was up now. Might as well get it. The text was from Eric, which made Jack think that moving at least was worth it. Then he read it. I don’t know if you’re up yet, but if you are, don’t come to the bakery to walk me home. I’ll explain when I get there. Jack sat down again. Had he done something? Was there something wrong? Something Eric didn’t want him to see? He typed, Everything OK? Did something happen? It took a couple of minutes for Eric to respond, and Jack couldn’t help wondering if Eric was trying to find a way to let him down easy. It couldn’t be that, could it? Eric had seemed really pleased when Jack had met him in the corridor this morning. Not really, Eric texted back. I think I just figured something out. I’ll tell you before our nap. That was good, Jack thought. If Eric was planning to come over for a nap, then everything would be fine. Even if Jack thought he was more likely to spend the time watching Eric sleep than sleeping himself. His phone buzzed again. And btw, I work for a weasel. I think. OK, Jack texted back. As long as you’re all right. I’ll be here when you get home. Then he pulled his plate back into his lap (what? He was was hungry) and turned on the documentary and tried not to think about it until Eric got there. When the movie ended, he carried his plate to the kitchen and checked the clock. 2:15. Eric should be home in about 40 minutes. Maybe he could read? What did he do with his time before he spent it waiting for Eric? He washed his lunch dishes and put them away and then did what he had done this morning: opened the door a crack and sat with his book where he could see who passed in the corridor. Eric said he was coming over to nap, but he might want to go to his apartment first. Jack didn’t want to wait a minute more than he had to. It turned out he didn’t have to. He heard the elevator doors slide open, then Eric was pushing his door open wider. “Mr. Zimmermann, you should be more careful,” Eric said. “Anyone could come in here.” Jack stood up and said, “Not just anyone. There’s a doorman.” “Yeah, well, come here, because it’s just me,” Eric said, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist when he got close. “And I’m not about trusting other people right now.” Jack pulled Eric even closer and spoke into his hair. “Mmm. Tell me what happened.” “I’m pretty sure that Matthew was the one who sent those tweets,” Eric said. “Or had someone send them. I need to call your dad to apologize.” “Apologize? What for?” Jack said. “It sounds like Matthew owes you an apology.” “Because knowing me is what brought it onto your dad,” Eric said. “But you didn’t do anything wrong,” Jack said. “You should demand an apology from him. And another raise.” “I can’t prove it,” Eric said. “But the timing of it … and when I hinted at it, he didn’t exactly deny it. But he didn’t admit it either.” “So what did you do?” “Oh, my God, I’m sorry, Jack, but I threatened to quit if rumors about me kept appearing,” Eric said, pulling away and sitting on the couch. “OK,” Jack said. “But why are you sorry?” “Because you guaranteed my deposit, and I need this job to make my rent,” Eric said. “Don’t worry about that,” Jack said. “Seriously, not at all. Come on, let’s get some sleep.” Jack extended his hand to Eric and pulled him to his feet. “One thing I don’t understand, though,” Jack said. “Why my dad? Why not me?” “Well, I don’t think Matthew was paying attention to Twitter before the weekend,” Eric said. “I’m pretty sure he got the idea from the selfie he took with Derek that I posted. And I think he was afraid of what would happen if he went after you.” “And my dad was the better choice? So he’s a weasel and an idiot?” Jack sniggered. “Don’t worry. This will all work out.”

**********************

Jack seemed determined not to be too concerned about Matthew, who now knew Eric lived in the same building as Jack and had shown a predisposition to stir up trouble. Eric thought maybe Jack should take it a little more seriously. Matthew’s only real concern seemed to be whether the bakery was doing better, which was unfair, because it was doing fine before. It was certainly busier than when Eric arrived there, and the business had been growing steadily. If people happened to hear that some of the Falconers were regular customers, well, that would have been fine. Even if that was on Twitter … which it was, after Mashkov had come in with Jack. What was Twitter but word-of-mouth on steroids? The difference was that Matthew hadn't tweeted about the quality or the popularity of Sugar ‘n’ Spice’s baked goods. He'd crossed a line by bringing Eric’s personal life into it, and even worse, Bob’s. And if Eric and Jack kept spending so much time together, who was to say he wouldn't bring Jack into it? Jack seemed to accept that the world would find out about them sooner or later, but Eric couldn't help but fret over what would happen then. The reaction on social media would be huge. Sure, some, maybe even most, people would be supportive. But those who weren't could be positively vitriolic. What would it be like for Eric’s parents, who would go from quietly being the parents of a gay boy to being the parents of a gay poster boy? What would it be like for Jack? Would players on other teams try to bait him with homophobic language? Would the hits get harder and dirtier? What if he got hurt? “Eric!” Eric snapped his head around to see Jack standing by the boards, his face flushed and hair sweaty from his cardio session upstairs. “Are you OK?” Jack asked. “You haven't been practicing like you usually do. You've just skated in circles.” “I was doing footwork,” Eric said. “Right,” Jack said. “If alternating forward and backwards laps is footwork.” Eric shrugged. “Just thinking,” he said. “Tell you what,” Jack said. “Let me get my skates on and we can talk about it. We've got another 15 minutes.” “You don't have to,” Eric protested. “But I want to,” Jack said. “We need to talk to each other, ouais?” Jack retrieved his skates and started circling the rink with Eric. “So what is it that has you so deep in your head you’re not even practicing spins?” Jack said. Eric skated a few strides, looking straight ahead. Finally, he said, “What if this ruins everything?” “What do you mean by ‘this’? Your boss being an asshole?” Jack said. “He always was an asshole. He still doesn’t pay you what you’re worth, and that little surprise visit to get you take a smaller raise than you asked for -- and to do more work at the same time -- that was a dick move.” “And I was so proud of myself,” Eric said, hoping he didn’t sound as pathetic as he felt. “You had every right to be,” Jack said. “It took courage to ask for a raise, and ask for more staffing, and to go into it alone, with no experience doing anything like that, with the person that held the keys to your life here … I think that took a lot of courage. I’ve certainly never gone into negotiations alone. I’ve always had an agent, lawyers, a whole team, and my parents to back it all up. Him being a jerk doesn’t reflect badly on you -- it just makes what you’ve accomplished all the more impressive.” “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about him being a jerk,” Eric said. “I mean, you and me. What if when people find out and, I don’t know, something happens to you and you lose your career?” He watched Jack stride thoughtfully for a few seconds before Jack said quietly, “Then I will have had a very nice, very lucrative career, and I will take some time to figure out what I want to do next. Maybe I would go to college. Who knows? But regardless of what I might have thought when I was a teenager, hockey is not my actual life. I’ve already had far longer in the league than most people.” “Jack, please, just take this seriously,” Eric said. “Falcs management could change and the new people might not want an out player. Other teams could use it to get under your skin. Or worse, you could be hurt.” “I do take it seriously,” Jack countered. “I could be hurt in any game I play in. Would it be worse if the guy who did it thought there was something wrong with me? Maybe, but the end result is the same. It’s too late, anyway.” “Too late for what?” “Too late for you to walk away and think this will go away and no one will ever know it happened,” Jack said. “How many people know about us? A couple dozen players on the team, maybe another half-dozen in PR and management, my parents, your friends and co-workers … once you start counting the people who are in on a secret in the dozens, I don’t think you can really call it a secret anymore. Especially when a lot of them gossip as much as hockey players do.” “Not helping,” Eric said. Jack held Eric’s arm and stopped, bringing Eric around to face him. “If you really want to stop, that’s your choice, of course,” Jack said. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure to do anything you don’t want to do. And people might not find out that we were together, if you walk away -- and believe me, you’ll have to do the walking, because I don’t want to leave -- but it will definitely get around that I’m not straight. And you know what? That’s OK with me.” “But you never told anyone before.” “No,” Jack said. “I never thought I had a reason to, because I wasn’t seeing anyone. But maybe I wasn’t seeing anyone so I wouldn’t have to say anything. And I know it would have been much riskier when I came into the league. But I never realized how much better it would feel to tell people. Why didn’t you tell your parents until you moved to Massachusetts? I know you felt safer, having a place to go home to, but was maybe learning what it felt like to be out part of it? Because I feel like I’m closer to my teammates now than I have been in all the years I’ve been here. I feel more like myself, if that makes sense.” Jack took a deep breath. “I really want to be with you, to keep finding out things like this with you, even to deal with whatever nastiness happens with you,” he said. “But I know I can’t make you go through that for me, and that’s what it would be, because you’re already out and have friends and could probably date a hundred guys.” “But, Jack, I do,” Eric insisted. “I do want to do all that with you. I just don’t want to be the reason you lose everything that you love.” “I couldn’t have lost everything I love if I still have you,” Jack said.

*******************************

Eric’s eyes widened and a he sucked in a breath. Crisse. Tabarnak de osti. What had he just said? Why had he said that? It’s not like loving Eric was a new thought for Jack; it had first entered his mind way too early in their relationship for even a hockey robot like him to think about saying it. Bringing it out in the open would do nothing but pressure Eric -- just what he wanted to stay away from. Eric, who was five years younger and who deserved a chance to look around him before settling down; Eric, who had to understand the downsides of being with a professional athlete as well as the benefits. Although judging by this conversation, Eric was aware of some of the drawbacks. Eric still hadn’t said anything. Jack dropped Eric’s hand and rubbed both his palms over his face for a moment, finally looking up to see Eric’s eyes still fixed on him. “Look, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make things weird or --” “Did you mean it?” Eric broke in. “Did you mean you love me?” “Well. yes, but I know it’s only --” “Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you are not apologizing for telling me you love me,” Eric said. “If you must know, I’m pretty sure I love you too, but I didn’t want to jinx anything or scare you off by saying it.” “You don’t have to say it back because I said it,” Jack said. “I’m not,” Eric said. “I’m saying it because I mean it. I might not have much dating experience, but I know I’ve never felt like this before, and I can’t imagine that I’ll feel this way about anyone else.” “Then why just ‘pretty sure’?” Jack chirped with a smile, now that the terror of what he had done had subsided. “Well, I’ve got your dad to think of, don’t I?” Eric said, then spun away from Jack and took off down the ice. “Come and get me,” he called over his shoulder. Jack pushed off after him, legs churning and lungs burning, until he had caught up and caged Eric between his arms against the boards. “You let me catch you, didn’t you?” he asked, “I’ll never tell,” Eric said. “But I will say, it’s much better when you’re a half-inch away as opposed to half a rink, Mr. Zimmermann.” “How about I come even closer?” Jack said, bending to press his lips to Eric’s. As they kissed, Eric’s arms went around Jack’s waist and pulled their bodies together, while Jack’s hands came off the glass, one resting on the side of Eric’s jaw, the other brushing over the short hair at the back of his neck. Jack couldn’t have said how long they stood there on the ice, kissing like it was the only way to get oxygen. The didn’t separate until they heard the beep-beep of the zamboni’s horn as it entered the ice. Jack looked up and grinned, giving a lazy wave towards the room where the zamboni was stored. He nodded to Rich, took Eric’s hand, and skated to the exit. Rich waved back and then started his slow, careful circuit. “Come on, Eric,” Jack said. “Let’s go home.”

[zakszombieblog]

Top 10 WORST Weapons for the Zombie Apocalypse

I don’t think we’ve discussed this yet, so let’s get to it!

In the event of a zombie apocalypse, picking the right weapon is crucial. Pick the wrong weapon and you’re going to die. Unlike a lot of my other bits and pieces of advice, this applies mostly to the zombie apocalypse, since there aren’t many other emergency scenarios that require killing people. If you’re in one such scenario though, I’m terribly sorry for your circumstances.

There are a few things to keep in mind when selecting a weapon: efficiency, practicality, energy cost, other uses, and so on. You want a weapon you can use quickly and easily to kill zombies, one you can come across if your old one gets lost, something that won’t tire you out, and preferably, something that has multiple uses. These weapons do not meet these requirements, and thus should be avoided if possible.

10) Debris

You’re cornered by zombies and all you have is a lead pipe. For the moment, this is a great weapon: quick to use and sufficient enough to kill zombies. For everyday use, not so much. A lead pipe and other debris you may find can work in a pinch, but you’re going to want something a bit easier to wield. Until you find an axe though, a led pipe, beam of wood, or broken bit of iron hand-railing will work just fine.

9) Anything old and rusty

As time goes on, things tend to wear down. If not properly maintained, what would be a great weapon can become dull and even brittle. Additionally, if exposed to the elements, the weapon can become rusty. Dull, rusty, old things are not as efficient at killing zombies as a shiny new version. Additionally, they can be hazardous for you. If you get cut by that rusty pipe you picked up, you could contract tetanus. If you escape that, you still have an open wound where all the bacteria in the zombie blood, on the old weapon, and already on your skin can crawl in and destroy you. You could use these old rusty things in booby traps, but not much else. Not worth the risk.

8) Machine Gun

When most people think of a weapon to bring in a zombie apocalypse, they immediately think of bringing a gun of some sorts. Bringing a gun is a good idea since you can kill enemies at a distance, usually with one shot. The drawback is that guns are loud and amo is going to run out eventually, unless you know how to make bullets and have access to the equipment and materials needed. So what better than a gun that is loud and sprays a thousand bullets with one tap of the trigger? A machine gun might seem like a good idea at first, but it’s going to eat through your bullets pretty quickly. Ideally, your gun should only need one shot to kill. Your machine gun is just gonna spray all your bullets at once. Congrats, you killed one zombie and chopped the legs off another, but you’re out of amo and it’s still coming at you. Additionally, a machine gun has no secondary uses. Unless you need to unleash a spray into a horde, stick with a handgun or rifle.

7) Kitchen Knives

You’re still home and it’s the early days of the apocalypse. You don’t have a gun, the axe is in the shed, it’s not safe to go outside, and you think you hear something in the other room. In this situation, a kitchen knife works but is not ideal. Most kitchen knives are designed to prepare food that is already dead, and so they’re going to have more difficulty going through skull than a hunting or Bowie knife. If it’s all you have, it should work, but pick a cleaver, chef’s knife, or any other knife designed to cut through bones and meat. On the plus side, kitchen knives are not tiring to use if they are sharpened and well-maintained, and can be used to prepare food (though I don’t know how I feel about preparing a roast with something that once had zombie blood on it).

6) Sledgehammer

Sledgehammers are enormous hammers with a powerful punch. Not only can they crush zombies with one swing, but they can also break down walls if you find yourself in a situation where that is necessary. However, unless you have enormous muscles and cardio for days, you are going to get tired after a few swings. If you only have two or three zombies to worry about, you should be fine. If there’s twenty, ten, or even five and you’re not the strongest person you know, you’re going to have a problem. At that point, it’s best to use the energy you would have spent swinging to put as much distance between you and them as possible.

5) Rocket Launcher

At first, a rocket launcher seems like a great weapon to obliterate an oncoming horde in seconds. However, the blast is going to damage everything within range, meaning potential supplies have just gone up in smoke. Additionally, the blast is loud and will attract even more zombies. Any zombies not killed by the blast or flying debris are probably on fire now. On top of all that, a rocket launcher is hard to come by, and refills of amo are probably even harder to find. Unless you live near an active military base that leaves its weapons unguarded when the entire country is being overrun by a tireless threat, you’re probably not even going to come across one. Just looking at them, they are probably heavy and difficult to use if you haven’t had any training. If this is your first pick for a weapon, then you are screwed.

4) Medieval Weaponry

Crossbows, bows and arrows, flails, and swords sound like great zombie-killing weapons at first. If you know how to use them, they are. However, the vast majority of us have little to no training in how to use these weapons. If you can, great! Swords and flails are reusable, and crossbows and regular bows allow you to take down targets silently from a safe distance. If you don’t, skip these. The apocalypse is not the place to learn how to use your ideal weapon. Crossbows are difficult to use, and bolts are probably difficult to find unless you can make them yourself (bolts are the crossbow’s amo, bet you thought they were called arrows); additionally, a careless misplace of your hands can result in the loss of fingers. Bows are also difficult to use, and arrows difficult to find unless you can make them yourself. Flails are good because they require one hit to kill, but if you’re not trained in how to use one, you’re just going to kill yourself and become an easy meal. Swords are great because they’re reusable, but there’s more to using them than just swinging them around. If you don’t know how to use a sword, you could drop it, break it, or even hurt yourself. Unless you have prior training in these weapons, leave the Medieval section of the museum you were wanting to raid alone.

3) Prop Weapons

I shouldn’t have to say this, but I think it should be made clear: props are horrible weapons. A prop sword might be sharp, but it’s designed to sit there and look pretty, not kill. Unlike other terrible weapon choices on this list, you shouldn’t even use these if you’re backed into a corner. If you’re backed into a corner, kitchen knives and sledgehammers are useable; if you try to use a prop sword to kill a zombie, you might do more harm to yourself. The prop could break or become stuck in the zombie. This makes it a zombie with a sharp edge. The best course of action would be trying to use a chair, desk lamp, or heavy knick-knack to bludgeon the zombies before you got to the corner. If you have no other choice, try to escape through a window and look for something better, like a lead pipe.

2) Chainsaw

In video games, it’s fun to play as a the chainsaw-wielding badass who can cut through five zombies at a time with no effort. In practice, this is a horrible idea. Anyone who has as much enthusiasm about the zombie apocalypse as I do can tell you a chainsaw is one of the worst weapons for the zombie apocalypse. First of all, they are loud. If you only want to kill one zombie, any others in the area are going to show up before the first zombie has hit the ground. Second, they often require fuel to operate. Usually, this fuel is better suited for your vehicle or some of your other equipment. Third, they require you to be up close and personal with the zombies, which is already not ideal. Fourth, they tend to spray whatever they’re cutting everywhere; if it’s a tree you’re cutting, best have some goggles, but if it’s a zombie, best be wearing a hazmat suit because for all we know the virus can be transferred through blood. And fifth, they can be tiring to use, unless they are the lightweight variety. This isn’t even taking into consideration the threat it poses it you if you don’t maintain it properly. Save the chainsaw for the video games.

So what can be worse than what is thought to be the worst zombie killing weapon of all time?

1) Flame Thrower

Zombie Apocalypse 101: How do you kill a zombie? If you answered ‘aim for the head’, you are correct. This can be done with a blunt instrument or something sharp that can penetrate the skull. A flame thrower can do neither of these. All they do is set the zombie on fire. Unless you beat the corpse with the canister - which is a terrible idea by the way - you are not causing any blunt force trauma. As a result, now the zombie is on fire and that’s it. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can slow it down. More than likely, it’s got a few more miles in it, and it’s going to spend those miles burning down your shelter. Not only that, but it has few other uses. Yeah you can clear your driveway in the wintertime with ease, but if you try setting a campfire up, you might cause more damage than anything else. Additionally, the flame thrower was invented to intimidate enemies, not even cause damage! A flame thrower is the worst weapon to use in the zombie apocalypse because it’s the only weapon that makes the zombies stronger. Use it and you’re dead.

Were there any terrible weapons I missed? Do you think any of these terrible weapons are actually great? What’s your number one pick for worst weapon and why? Let me know, and choose your weapon wisely, survivors! Good luck!