#and this fellas is how they get engaged

[thief-of-eggs]

Headcannon that Sokka carves a water tribe betrothal necklace to give to Zuko for Valentine’s day.

Only to find that Zuko had secretly spent time learning how to carve a water tribe betrothal necklace, and painstakingly carved one for him as well.

[claire-starsword]

Authentic Story of the Shining Force - Saint Fencer Max - Chapter 3

Translation notes:

So, uh. Elliot's name is rendered with two t's in the og game, but a single one in the GBA version. I had never paid attention to that at all until I had already edited all these pages, and I don't care enough to change it.

Cain's sword causes an explosion here. In the game, it is indeed capable of summoning flames.

This is a perfect illustration of how I feel about these names, but I do wonder what the actual intention was, since Cain is supposed to be already gone. The original image is even cut off weirdly in the middle of the text, and i don't think it's a problem with the scan, since every scanned page has a black border showing that the paper itself doesn't cut there. I wonder about the production of this thing, but i'll wait until i translate the author's comments before saying more.

The map in the previous chapter was very accurate to the beta map of the game. The smaller map here showing Rindo however looks off, the coast is different, and there seems to be a river directly to the north of Rindo, as opposed to the path to Shade Abbey. Perhaps fitting since Shade is skipped here.

Metaphaluna, huh? Needlessly to say, the country of the gods/Ancients is called only Metapha in the final game. Also, in this panel, it pops up as an alternate reading for 前世紀 (ancient times), not the name of a country specifically. I chose to romanize the last part as "luna" for three reasons. One is that the continent of Rune is actually rendered as Lune in at least two guides. I take romanizations from JP guides with a grain of salt since they sometimes look bad/unnatural, or are inconsistent (Pelle's name for example has been romanized as both Peil or Payle depending on the book). I checked though, and town names however are consistent in both the books I've seen romanizing things. The second reason is that the beta map used at this point has a fairly noticeable crescent moon shaped island right in the middle. In the final game, we can't know exactly where Metapha is, because you only teleport there. But I wonder if this island had something to do with it at some point. The third reason is simply I saw no better reason. Metaphalna and Metapharuna would be just as valid, but don't have any meaning to them.

The biggest equation next to Tao as she explains the magic types is very clearly a E=mc². Look close.

I've retranslated Elliot's scenes from the game thinking it would be relevant to these notes. Now I feel it really isn't, but you get more content so you should be happy.

My main point with that is that Elliot does not say anything about Cain in the game. In the GBA version, Balbazak does try revealing Max, Cain and Darksol's identities before dying, but that's not a thing in the og. So yeah I really translated a bunch of stuff for nothing this time! Except not because Darksol is awesome in that scene and everyone should get to see it.

Now let's talk about Otrant. I have mentioned before that Otrant's gender is never explicitly said, and they speak in a mostly gender neutral way (I feel like there's a few masculine patterns in some lines, but I'm not confident enough to say for certain). What I hadn't noticed is that they also use lipstick in the games, which is probably what sparked these observations to begin with, but i'm uh, occasionally not smart. In any case, if any of these aspects were done at this point in development the artist here sure ignored them, and drew a regular old man who gets called an old man. They hate to see an androgynous boss winning.

I don't recall Otrant's third eye being called "Eye of Truth" anywhere else, but the manual of the game does say it can see the past and the future.

Otrant's naming of the Shining Force is a bit more elaborate here, but the wording is very similar to the actual game.

Finally, let's play spot the cameo!

We've got Gong, Zylo, one of the birds, and probably Anri. Easy.

Here, besides the obvious three who were actually introduced in the story, we again have a bird, Anri between Ken and Hans, Gong to the right, and Mae and Gort behind Luke. If you read the pre-release page you know that Gort was meant to be Mae's servant at some point, so this might be why they're together, or it's just coincidence because they still join around the same time in the final game. More importantly, to Ken's left we have...

Some guys. Who are these. They could be made up by the artist (there will be another case of this), but I find it curious that the artist had to do that when there are so many character to pick from, and he clearly wanted to depict official characters here. For one, there's evidence that Earnest was already designed at that point in development. However, that link also shows that Vankar didn't have a portrait by that time at least, and Vankar would have already joined by this point in the story. So could the bald centaur here be a beta Vankar, or the artist's interpretation of Vankar via unfinished art? Maybe, but just a guess in the end. Mostly I'm just fascinated by how detailed this guy is compared to even Mae and Gort's cameos. The other guy isn't so i don't think about them nearly as much.

[hoonvrs]

CIGARETTES — s. jaeyun smau

PAIRING jake x fmr

SYNOPSIS where university student jake develops a little crush on the girl he sees with a cigarette between her lips in the smoking area and decides he needs to impress her. how else would he do that except calling his smoker friend to teach him how to smoke ( spoiler: it doesn’t go so well. )

GENRE smau, fluff, crack, sprinkle of angst if you read it upside down, golden retriever x black cat duo

FEATURING ( enha ) all, ( ive ) gaeul, yujin, ( nct ) chenle, jisung

WARNING smoking [ don’t smoke kids ], swearing, kys/kms/suicide jokes, friendly bullying, dirty/sex jokes ( more will be added if necessary)

STATUS completed

TAGLIST ( CLOSED )

S. NOTE JAKE MY MANNN ( hoon look away ) as an 02z girl i finally have an smau for each bias so i feel v complete

also please don't spam like as it shadowbans me and lessens engagement <3

PROFILES

virgin mary’s | smoking HAWT | privs

CHAPTERS

01 BI yourself

02 we found love in the smoking area

03 life is roblox

04 you white whore

05 jake you beautiful bastard

06 are we rush houring rn

07 it’s the dawg in me

08 yuh :3

09 the brit

10 what if i was suicidal .

11 here comes christian bale

12 i don’t trust him. weird fella

13 give us another sonnet english boy

14 bros from yapan

15 he thinks he’s a 90s babe

16 i’m just a girl

17 i’m sat.

18 go piss girl

↳ extra: did life360 tell you that.

19 i got my peaches out in jojo

20 okayy little miss poet

21 i’m built different

22 WAHHHHHHW WAAHHH

23 i want you

24 why are u bricked up

25 PUKA PUKA POW POW

26 jake in his flop era

27 this is getting too homoerotic

28 they go low i go lowER

29 inshallah he will eat

30 hello ross lynch

31 filthy omega

32 u r sobir. die (+written 0.8k)

33 she shoiodv be inde clubbb…..

34 when he makes you his girlfriend

35 can’t take me anywhere

36 noo you’re so sexy haha

37 no. (+written 0.7k)

38 i feel so kawaii today

39 come home fat

40 wasn’t very dabatayo of you jay.

↳ extra: it’s actually dattebayo*

41 ur man can’t drive manual

42 i Want you so bad

43 hawk putuh

44 okay blondie

45 though shalt not fail, but prevail

↳ extra: random

EP1 upset my girl. i’m gonna Kms

EP2 im not smoking that shit

EP3 OUR girlfriend ☭

copyright © hoonvrs 2023 all rights reserved

[kairismess]

ushijima wakatoshi: your shy secret admirer.

ushijima wakatoshi had this weird knack for being interested in things, concepts, and people he couldn't exactly understand; and this is where you come in—the object of ushijima's accidental affection, affection he hadn't realized he harbored for you until, after probably three years of tendou pointing out how strange his interest with you was—that was kind of on the level of him loving volleyball... it was like you casted a spell on him to not want anything or anyone else, but to do volleyball and... to see you everyday.

ushijima wakatoshi has a hard time understanding others' feelings, let alone his own. he struggles to show how he really feels about you, so he tries to be subtle and ultimately straight up asks the guys on the team about what it's like falling in love.

ushijima wakatoshi is catapulted into unfamiliar territory; what he understands of 'falling in love' is kind of like that feeling one gets when they receive a perfect spike, or pull off a kickass service ace, or feeling that burning passion that erupts in your chest when you finally realize that what may seem fruitless at first, if you dedicate enough time to it, will yield fresh, ripe fruits in no time—no matter how barren the land is.

ushijima wakatoshi is the barren land in this case; he's the clueless, hopelessly in love, yet unaware of it, loverboy that's so into you. it might be a little ridiculous to say that the super ace ushijima wakatoshi is a loverboy when he's not always that expressive—but if you only knew how much and how often you occupied his mind, you'd be convinced he was as dense as a boulder, because his feelings were so obvious... yet he never realizes it.

ushijima wakatoshi used to be able to only talk about one thing, and it was always volleyball—everything else was the about what the others wanted to talk about, but he never really felt engaged in those conversations... until they were about you. about how cool you were, how interesting of a person you were, and about how... "their eyes always look so full of wonder. it's like... you feel gravitated towards them." "...pretty sure that's just a you thing, wakatoshi." "that can't be right. well, anyway, i'm a bit concerned about the chest pain i've been feeling recently. whenever they come into mind, a sort of... strange feeling rises up my chest and lingers there, i don't know why, i haven't been lifting recently, but—" "wakatoshi, i'm your best friend so i'll just spell it out for you, you're in love, big fella."

ushijima wakatoshi feels the feeling surge up and rises to his cheeks. for the first time in ever... the shiratorizawa boys' volleyball team witnesses ushijima wakatoshi, their super ace, all flushed and embarrassed, red in the cheeks, because of how much he loved you and being confronted with the fact that he did, indeed, love you.

ushijima wakatoshi wanted to do something about these feelings, he didn't want to be burdened with eternal chest pain and a heat in his face that felt feverish, but in a good way, whenever he looked at you, heard you speak, or thought about or even dreamed about you. he wanted to make the first move... no matter how impossible that seemed for him to do.

ushijima wakatoshi no blocks could ever stop ushijima wakatoshi from spiking, nobody could ever stop this man when he was on a roll... except in terms of love, only you could stop ushijima from thinking straight and sending him in into tunnel vision, thinking about and focusing only on you.

ushijima wakatoshi blushes at the notion tendou encouraged him to go through with, clutching the bouquet he arranged on his own with flowers fresh from his family's garden, and with a lump in his throat he could never swallow down. "hey," he says in a low, rumbling voice. the thought of him being scary or intimidating never entered his head—all that he could think of was how adorably tinier and sweeter you seemed in comparison to him; making him love you all the more. he hands you the bouquet, maintaining eye contact with you as the feverish flush came back. "...you're beautiful." he mumbles, the red in his cheeks becoming more and more evident the longer he spent around you. he was whipped for you, he was smitten with you—ushijima wakatoshi wanted to let you know... "...and i love you."

[honkytonk-hangman]

Take Care Of Business

40s!Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Mechanic!Reader

gif belongs to babyrooster

Summary: The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

Warnings: mentions of period accurate sexism, mentions of a cheating fiancee. copious amounts of fluff, seriously you may overdose

Notes: OMG ITS HERE ITS ACTUALLY FINISHED!!! thank you so sosososososos much to @hangmanssunnies for your endless endless ENDLESS love and encouragement during the last year writing this, and also to @ussgallifrey, who was super supportive during the earliest versions of this fic <3 i can't believe its heeerrreeee

1946

You can’t help but let out a laugh as you’re guided through the busy dance hall, barely missing a waiter with a large tray of drinks as you go. You try to call back an apology, but the hand wrapped around your wrist is already dragging you away, weaving in and out of the crowds of dancers and party-goers.

You’d almost forgotten what the atmosphere in a place like this could be like, exuberant and daring, and now that the war was officially over, lacking in any sort of melancholy.

Bea, your well meaning, but a little over-excited friend, finally seems to be slowing down, though she has one last surprise in stall for you, using your momentum to swing you around to her side with a strength such a small woman certainly shouldn’t possess.

“There she is!” a male voice, deep and pleasant, greets from somewhere in front of you, and you give your head a quick shake, attempting to get your bearings now.

“Sorry we’re late, sugar! Had a lipstick emergency!” Bea says only half truthfully, stepping away from your side momentarily to allow a handsome moustachioed man to lean down and kiss her cheek.

You can’t help but smile at the sweet display. Bea had been telling you all about Bradley Bradshaw for weeks now, and if even half of what she’d told you was true, you already liked him immensely for treating your friend so well.

“And this must be the famous Ducky I’ve heard all about,” honey coloured eyes swivel away from Bea and land on you, making you remember yourself.

“It’s so good to meet you at last, Lieutenant Bradshaw!” you shake his offered hand warmly.

“Please just call me Bradley– or Rooster!” he gently corrects you, before he hums, and shoots Bea a suspicious look.

“Do you think she’s adding us birds to some sort of collection?” he asks conspiratorially, the question making you laugh genuinely at the absurdity.

Bea huffs, shakes her head, and smacks his arm, trying her best to fight off the grin on her lips.

“All I’ll say Rooster, is that you’d best treat her right, or she will hunt you for sport,” you lean in and reply, receiving your own smack for your trouble. Rooster’s face turns bright and he laughs, pulling Bea near with his arm around her.

“I can believe that, yes ma’am,” they look at each other with barely concealed adoration, and it makes your heart clench a little in your chest. You’re quickly distracted though, with the sudden and rowdy approach of six other people, all dressed to the nines like everyone else around you. Rooster seems unfazed by their appearance, though he tears his eyes away from Bea to glance around at the now much larger group you were in.

“Fellas, you all know Bea already, and this is Bea’s friend, Ducky,” he easily introduces you to the six newcomers, all men except for a tall, beautiful brunette woman who looked like she could eat every single one of them for breakfast. A flurry of handshakes and names are exchanged, and you’re surprised by just how quickly you feel totally absorbed by the group of Naval Aviators, like you’d known them all for years and were just catching up again.

“I’m spotting a free table, north west!” the man who held the youngest looking features of the group, Fanboy you believe he’d introduced himself as, pipes up, pointing over everyone's heads to the large round table that was currently being cleaned up. Before you can even process it, the entire group is migrating casually toward the table, Rooster catching the arm of the waiter before he leaves, putting a round in, you assume.

You find yourself next to Bob, who sends you an adorably awkward little grin as he pulls out your chair for you, and you thank him sincerely. Despite the gentlemanly gesture, the moment you’re comfortable, he’s taking his own seat, and once more totally absorbed by the woman you’d learn was named Phoenix, or Nat. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, too distracted by all the new faces, and their excitable personalities, but Bob was clearly, utterly enamoured by Phoenix, and it looked like the feeling was returned, if perhaps a little less obviously

“Hey, Javy, where’s your other half?” Bea is sat a few places down from you, her hand wrapped through Rooster’s arm. A man on the opposite side of the table waves his hand over his shoulder.

“He’s coming, probably caught his reflection in a glass,” Javy snorts.

“I wanted to introduce him to Ducky!” Bea pouts, and her words make you frown.

“Pardon?” you say pointedly, leaning around Bob and Phoenix to look at Bea with a frown. Rooster seems to be matching your expression, and he cocks his head at his partner.

“Ducky is far too nice for him,” Rooster says, but you get the feeling he doesn’t really mean it.

“Oh come off it, Ducks, you could do with meeting someone new!” Bea rolls her eyes, but her voice is imploring.

Your frown deepens just a little bit, but you aren’t too angry. It wasn’t as if she’d tricked you into a double date or anything. There were plenty of other seemingly solo people around that you’re sure any awkwardness could easily be avoided if you managed to stick by Bob and Phoenix.

“I’m afraid that I won’t be able to help you there, Honey Bea,” A smooth male voice purrs from behind you, and you almost jump at the hand that comes to rest warmly on your shoulder. You turn quickly in no small amount of surprise at the person apparently so close, but any further thought is cut off when your eyes properly take in the handsome face smirking coquettishly down at you.

You’re so surprised, you gasp daintily, fumbling to your feet so that you can greet him properly.

“Hangman!” you welcome him excitedly, happily accepting the hand he offers to help you up.

“Jake,” he corrects gently, and you feel foolish for laughing.

“Jake!” you repeat fondly, caught up in staring at him.

“You two already know each other?” Bea sounds put out, but intrigued, and you manage to tear your gaze away from Jake for a few moments to focus on her.

“Oh, Ducky and I go way back,” Jake tells her, at first offering no more explanation.

“We met during the war,” you explain to her, opening your mouth to continue on that he had been a friend of your fiance’s, but you stop yourself. Jake had been your friend long before you’d found out he knew your ex-fiance.

“Best damn aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had,” Jake adds, sounding proud as he brings your hand that he still holds up to his lips. Phoenix jerks then, blinking quickly around the other’s and then up at Jake with a growing smile.

“Wait, you’re the Ducky?! Jake’s Ducky?!” She questions in no small amount of disbelief. There’s a quiet chitter of understanding and awe that briefly overcomes the table, and you’re about to ask what it is she means by that, when Jake squeezes your hand and draws your attention, all the while shooting Phoenix a dirty look.

“Stop interrupting,” he scolds needlessly, and draws you closer.

Your chest flutters, but you’re distracted from the butterflies caused by being described as ‘Jake’s Ducky’, and instead distracted by an odd look on the blond’s face. It quickly turns a little darker, and you can’t help but notice the brief flicker of his eyes down to the hand he still holds.

“Where is the old man, then?” Jake tilts his head at you, and then quickly around at the crowded club, seemingly a little stiff now. You suck in a breath, realising now what he’d been confused by.

Clearing your throat, you take your left hand back from him with only a small amount of effort, before smoothing down your frock primly. Suddenly his closeness was nerve wracking as you feel him studying your features.

“Probably with his new wife. I haven’t exactly been keeping up,” you can’t help but scold yourself for the sass and bitterness in your tone. It just wasn’t classy. Jake seems to jolt as he processes your words, and for several more moments he stares down at you with an unreadable expression, before at last a tiny crease pulls between his brows, and his lips purse.

“I never liked him, anyway,” Jake says the words flippantly, and you know it’s supposed to be a joke, but his still taut expression and lack of humour in his voice tell you otherwise.

“Never good enough for you. To you,” he goes on quieter, so no one else can hear but you. You look down at your skirt, heart thumping away rapidly in your chest even as you shrug.

“Well, it’s probably for the best,” you do your best to shake off any residual foul mood and nerves, straightening up. Your lips curl back into a smile as you look back up at him once more. It felt nearly impossible to be melancholy when you knew Jake was around.

“It’s so good to see you again,” you tell him earnestly, and watch as Jake’s face softens. He takes your hand again, keeping eye contact as he lifts it to his lips and kisses it once more, this time, right where your old engagement ring would have been.

“I imagine,” he smirks, bouncing an eyebrow at you. You scoff, but grin even as you roll your eyes.

“You’re supposed to say ‘you too’!” you scold with no conviction as Jake rounds your seat, not even releasing your hand when, helping you back into your chair before he quickly folds himself into the empty space beside you. He simply shrugs at you, making a point of pulling his chair closer to yours, before his eyes flicker past you to land on Rooster and Bea.

“Sorry to ruin your little setup,” he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, though you doubt Bea was feeling too upset, not with the way she was looking between you and Jake with glee in her eyes.

“Hey, wasn’t my plan. I think she’s too good for you,” Rooster chortles, catching the fist Bea attempts to sock him with, and kissing it instead.

Jake ignores Rooster, and instead cuts his gaze down at you, leaning in so only you’ll hear him.

“How long have you been in San Diego? Are you staying?” he asks, sounding excited by the idea. When you turn to face him fully, his nearness is so much that if only for propriety’s sake, you’re forced to pull back from him as you talk.

“Six months now. I met Bea on the boat coming home from London, she convinced me not to go back to New York after… everything.” you tell him, realising suddenly what incredible luck you must have that you just so happened to run into one another when you’d resigned yourself to never seeing him again.

“I’m glad.” he says, pinning you in place when you feel his hand reach out and take yours from where it rests on your lap. Your heart thumps heavily at his brazenness, but it also sets you alight with a hopeful flame that in recent months you had come to realise you always had, but never allowed yourself to take notice of or indulge before.

The thoughts make your face boil, and you avert your gaze, your free hand shaking just a little as you reach for the glass of water that had been poured for you earlier.

“Oh, Ducky,” Jake sighs affectionately, leaning away from you at last, but tightening his grip around your fingers. You finally get the courage to glance up at him sheepishly, only to find him grinning down at you cheshire-like.

“My little sitting Ducky,” he continues, his smile only continuing to grow.

You know you should probably feel more trepidation about his sudden forwardness, but the only thing that you feel pumping through your veins is the exhilarating thrill at the thought of Jake calling you ‘his’ anything after so long of secretly wishing it to be true.

The way he looks at you feels positively predatory, and under his blistering hunter’s stare, you really are his sitting duck.

1942

The rain batters down against the airfield in what you knew would only prove to be ugly flying weather tonight, and you quickly send out a prayer of luck on behalf of the pilot you know by handwriting alone. Your time as an aircraft mechanic had officially come to an end, not for any good or decent reason, mind you, but for the sole fact that someone had suddenly decided that an active airfield was no place for a woman.

Nevermind that you were the best mechanic in the hangar, your colleagues had stroppily resented your presence from day one, and your true purpose as an additional engineer was forcibly concealed. Instead, you’d had to pretend you were a secretary around any actual personnel, especially the pilots, and once the hangar was clear for the day, you would be at last allowed to perform your actual job.

You’d gotten the impression fairly quickly that your coworkers shunted off the hardest to please, fussiest pilot, onto you, hoping you might fail at the first hurdle under the sheer amount of work this ‘Hangman’ seemed to demand. Unfortunately for them, you’d had no problem meeting the brief, and day after day that the planes were towed into the hangar for repairs, the stack of memos detailing Hangman’s complaints that always accompanied his aircraft grew smaller and smaller.

And then one day, instead of a plane to fix and a list of notes, you had a letter shoved into your hands, the contents of which was a written apology from one Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, informing you that he’d he’d been shot down, and all your hard work over the past weeks was now engulfed in flame somewhere in Italy. You’d immediately penned a reply, not caring at all about the state of his aircraft, and expressing your relief that he had made it out safely. You’d had to sign it off using a pseudonym, your own name would have gone against your boss’s wishes, and a fake name would be easily found out on an active military base.

You’d gone with ‘Ducky’, the callsign your father had used during the Great War, and from then on out, it had stuck.

Lieutenant Seresin had been sent back to the airfield eventually, and you’d both gone back to business as usual for several months. His battered bomber would be towed into the hangar for repairs, but gone were his blunt instructions, in their place he left short personal letters usually detailing his most recent flights, and only sometimes with requests about fixtures to be made. You would then leave your own reply for him to find when the plane was returned back to the runway, and so on, so forth. 

At least, that's how things had been carrying on until this morning, when you’d been abruptly dismissed by the airfield’s second in command, a snivelling man who had informed you they had ended your auxiliary work here, as it was apparently no place for a woman to be.

You’d wanted to shout and demand explanations, to demand your colleagues defend your worth, but they'd all remained silent, and you’d quickly been escorted off to pack your things with tears stinging your eyes.

You can’t help but wonder if your secret somehow got out, by the doing of jealous coworkers, and if perhaps Hangman hadn’t been so pleased with you upon finding out that you’re a woman.

The heavy rainfall makes it difficult for you and your bags to get across to the waiting transport plane, but the war stopped for nobody, so you’d wound up in the back of the empty aircraft, your clothes and things all but totally soaked. You’d been told the plane wouldn’t leave until the storm died down, so you’d huddled onto one of the benches miserably and tried to get warm, but you felt yourself filled with a deeper coldness than simply the biting european air.

You sit and stare out the back of the plane’s fuselage, simply taking in the distant ebb and flow of the airfield, a flurry of activity that wouldn't stop just because of some rain. It comforted you in a way, to know this place would carry on, but there was a deeper part of you that worried for them. You weren’t a braggart, but you knew you were the best mechanic here, taking not just pride in your work, but joy and passion too. It concerns you what may happen to the pilots in the future.

But, it was much too late for you to do anything else now. Perhaps if you’d been brave enough from the start to demand your recognition all along, this wouldn't be the case, but you think that perhaps they’d have just gotten rid of you sooner.

And then you notice something very odd.

All of a sudden out of the pouring sheets of rain, a covered military jeep comes tearing into sight, its driver in some kind of rush despite the slow lazy movement of everything else in this weather. You blink in surprise as the car skids right up to the plane you’re in, and jump up when it at last comes to a full stop only a few feet from the ramp. You can’t help but take a step back when the door flings open, and you watch as a tall, handsome man bounds out, clearly with urgent business to attend.

The man quickly moves up the plane ramp toward you, ducking out of the rain and taking a moment to fix his hair briefly before he straightens fully again. You stare at him with widened eyes, taking in the aviation uniform he wears, complete with gold wings that seem to glint blindingly despite the lack of sunlight on them. He pauses at the top of the ramp, and you almost jump back again at the intensity of his gaze when his bright green eyes narrow at you.

“Now, now, Ducky, don’t you know it’s rude to leave without saying goodbye?” the lazy southern drawl to the man’s voice surprises you so much that you almost don’t notice the familiarity with which he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry?!” you blurt dumbly. The blonde nods acceptingly, and steps forward, placing his hands on his hips.

“I should hope so! You think Kirk is gonna send me letters the next time I get shot down?” he asks scoldingly, but his casual mention of what would have been certain death for any other pilot is what finally snaps you from your shock.

“You'll get more than just a letter from me the next time you’re shot down!” you say crossly, finding yourself none-too-pleased by his nonchalant attitude toward the subject. Your threat makes a smirk form on the blonde’s lips, and at last he seems to stop his baseless tirade in favour of giving you a very blatant once over. You’re more subtle in your own assessment. A quick glance at the name pinned just below his gold wings confirms your suspicions about who it is you talk to, and when you snap your eyes back to his face, you find he’s already watching you closely.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve known you’re a woman for quite some time,” Hangman says, somehow both seriously and flippantly at the same time, waving his hand dismissively. Your brows furrow and you open your mouth to defend yourself, but shut it again quickly when you realise you’re unsure of what you’d say. “I first suspected when the repair hangar suddenly had a secretary who made terrible coffee. They aren’t sending anyone who makes shitty coffee this close to Italy. No offence.”

You feel like you should be insulted by his words, but truthfully, you’d made the joe that bad on purpose out of pure spite, until they stopped asking you to fetch it. The two of you continue to stare at one another for a few seconds, before you shift your eyes away from him, swallowing thickly as you begin to fidget with your still damp sleeve.

“The other’s thought it best that the pilot’s didn’t know a woman was working on their planes…” you try to explain. Hangman immediately scoffs at your words, and you eye him cautiously as he flings a hand out behind him, toward the entrance of the transport plane and in the vague direction of where the bombers are lined up on the tarmac, their bright colours obscured by the heavy rain.

“Ducky,” he begins dryly, “We paint our planes with women, we name our planes after our women,” he tells you, his smirk tipping up into pure amusement now, an eyebrow following. “Besides, I ain’t ever known a pilot who’s intimidated by a little skirt, especially around our machines,” he purrs, lowering his voice flirtatiously. Your face immediately heats up at his insinuation, and you can’t help but tut disapprovingly at him, even if you did appreciate his other sentiments. You fold your arms over your chest in disapproval while Hangman chortles at your clear bashfulness.

“I mean it, Ducky, please don’t go,” the pilot all but begs you then, his tone suddenly serious. He steps closer again, forcing you to look up at him  in the gloomy dark of the plane.

“I– I’m not leaving because I want to, Lieutenant,” you tell him somberly, dropping your gaze again when you find his stare too intense. “I was told to leave.” 

Hangman scoffs again, and adjusts his stance.

“Right, and I’ve just come from dangling my ass in front of a court martial, or seven, to make sure that order is belayed.” he informs you much too casually. You sputter at his mention of possible charges on your behalf, your arms falling unfolded again as you take a half-step forward in panic.

“W–what?! What did you do?!” you demand, half worried, half furious. 

Hangman grins widely at your clear exasperation, and tips his chin up cockily. You get the sudden feeling he enjoys ticking you off and making you nervous.

“Well, they can’t expect me to remain their best pilot if I don’t have my best girl working on my other best girl,” he tells you slowly, as if it should have been completely obvious already. Your face gets even hotter at his clear flirting, guilt strumming in your stomach at the way your chest flutters despite your relationship status. However, before you’re able to rebuke him by pointing out the ring you wear, the handsome blond makes a show of digging into his breast pocket, and pulling out a crumpled, coffee stained letter, holding it out towards you.

You hesitantly step closer to take it from him, feeling his bright, intense gaze return to yours, as you unfold and quickly look over the typed missive. It’s only a few lines long, and signed at the bottom, so you find yourself hurriedly meeting his eye again.

“You did this for me?” you ask, voice now watery. Hangman stares down at you, looking suddenly less cocky and sure of himself, taken aback by your clear emotional response.

“... Technically, I did this for me.” he corrects unconvincingly, voice lilting to sound dismissive, but you barely hear him, and certainly don’t care for his posturing.

“Thank you!” you gush, feeling a massive weight lift form your chest for the first time all morning. The pilot blinks down at you, stiffly taking in the tears that you try to wipe away with the back of your hand.

“How’re you supposed to drag me back by the ear the next time I get shot down, if you’re not here?” He changes the subject slightly, but only earns a small laugh in reply, not a further telling off, which he’d hoped might distract you from your tears.

“I think that will be the least I owe you after this.” you sniffle. The pilot shuffles uncomfortably, and raises a hand to scratch nervously at the back of his head, unable to sidestep the emotional centre of this interaction like he’d wanted to, but he chooses to wade through it, for you.

“You don’t owe me a damn thing, Ducky, really,” Hangman sighs, speaking tiredly, but firmly. “You’re the best aircraft mechanic I’ve ever had, probably that any of us have had. Shouldn’t matter if you’re a woman.” he hopes he sounds sincere. You hold the belayed order to your chest, and with a wobbling lip stare up at him like he was the sun itself.

You don’t realise this is the exact moment Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin falls completely in love with you, but as he eyes the shiny engagement ring you wear, he does.

1946

You try to ignore the way Bea stares at you and Jake for the next half hour as you catch up, and eventually, you are able to brush off her pointed looks and coquettish smiles. The other Daggers, Rooster and Phoenix particularly, show no such subtly in the way they seem to watch Jake interact with you. Phoenix had even grown a smug little smile in the last few minutes and had begun teasingly questioning Jake about the tender way in which he had taken up your hand and absolutely refused to let it go.

You get the feeling they know something you don’t, but you don’t feel that poorly over it, not when Hangman, Jake, has his hand in yours, his thumb caressing back and forth in little circles everytime you seem to go quiet.

Eventually, tiring of the clear teasing at his expense, Jake rolls his eyes and clears his throat. Fixing you in his gaze fully, he squeezes your hand and gets to his feet.

“I think we’ve both answered more than enough of your questions, Ducky, dance with me?” he doesn’t wait for your answer, but you would have said yes anyway, and, with a final glance back at the table as if to apologise for the sudden exit, you’re tugged gently away and almost immediately find yourself wrapped up on the dancefloor.

“I’m sorry if I’m rusty, it’s been a while since I danced properly,” you say nervously, feeling slightly lightheaded as Jake’s free hand moves to take hold of your waist firmly. His lips flick up, but he fakes a frown anyway, lowering his chin at you. You’re so close now you can feel yourself pressed right against the front of his pristine dress whites, feel the gold buttons through the tulle of your dress.

“I would have thought you’d be out dancing all the time now, fiancee or not,” Jake replies smoothly, making you shift your gaze away from him for a moment.

“It’s hardly wise to spend all my time dancing when I can barely find a job…” you say quietly, chewing on your lower lip, before you finally look back up at him. “If I’m honest, I hadn’t thought I’d still be working, once the war was over.”

Jake’s features lose any of their humour and he purses his lips.

“No, I’d have thought not… you should be being looked after by a good man, living a good life, taken dancing whenever you’d like and you’d never be rusty.” he tells you seriously. You can’t help but smile warmly at him and shrug a little in his hold.

“I think what I should do is adjust my expectations,” you say, inhaling sharply when his hold on your tightens, and he seems to pull you even nearer, if possible.

“I’m afraid that is absolutely unacceptable,” he tells you with a vehement shake of his head. “I think we’re going to have to do something about it, aren’t we?”

Butterflies errupt in your stomach, and unable to bear looking at him any more, you gently pull your hands from his, and wrap them around his neck. Your head rests softly on his chest, Jake quickly adjusting to meet your new stance in a way that suggested to you he’d imagined holding you like this for some time. You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a soft sigh.

“Thank you, Jake.” You say quietly, only knowing for sure that he’s heard you by the way he gently squeezes your waist in response.

“For what, darlin’?”

“For everything. For always coming back like I asked, despite your terrible habit of only ever  returning with about half as much plane as I sent you out with, for believing in me, and fighting for me, and always being there for me, even when Grey wasn’t.”

Jake stays quiet for a beat, his grip on you never wavering, and for a few moments the two of you just sway.

“It never felt right, knowing what I did about him, how he behaved, and keeping it from you… I… I felt so guilty all this time thinkin’ you’d been married to a man I knew didn’t deserve you, knowing I should have said something.”

It’s your turn to stay quiet, though eventually you shift your face up so that you can look at him. For the first time ever, Jake struggles to make eye contact with you, but when you begin gently smoothing over the hair at the back of his neck he meets your gaze. You smile sadly and shake your head.

“I knew,” you tell him, watching how his expression shifts from guilt-ridden to pained, and he opens his mouth, but you cut him off. “I didn’t want to believe it, and if you’d tried to tell me, I wouldn’t have believed you.” You continue stroking the back of his hair as if to comfort him. “And now I can still look fondly back on that time. In my mind, I will always think more of you looking out for me on his behalf, more than I think of him.” you admit.

Jake purses his lips and frowns.

“He never once asked me to do that for you, I couldn’t believe it, even when he knew we were stationed together. I woulda made sure you had someone you could trust, rely on, especially given how the other mechanics treated you.” He sounds so angry, and you can’t help but blink up at him in surprise.

“Grey never asked you to look out for me?” you ask, a fresh sting cutting your heart. You were long over your cheating, good for nothing ex-fiancee, but occasionally on nights like tonight, you felt the hurt once again. Jake takes in your surprise and hesitates for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I won’t give him credit for that, I’m sorry sweetheart.”

You stop swaying, pausing for a moment to stare up at him, and then you can’t help yourself, you lean up and press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say once more. When you pull away, Jake studies you for a while, before he slides his hands up to take yours, suddenly spinning you out, and then back in, where he catches you seemingly with his entire body, hands quickly wrapping you up securely again as you gasp.

“Why so surprised, honey? I’ve never made a secret of how much I adore you?” He teases you, making you stutter.

“Y-yes well, you were usuaully far more subtle about it!” you attempt to defend. Jake’s face breaks out in a grin, but he eyes you sardonically anyway.

“I’m glad my restraint didn’t go unnoticed. I could easily have seduced you away back then,” he tells you wryly. You frown.

“I don’t think that’s true…” you argue, but Jake only smiles.

“Let me believe, honey,” he implores, making you laugh.

You fall into a comfortable quiet then, and happily let Jake twirl you around the dancefloor, shaking off any rust you may have obtained in the months since you’d last been out like this. After once more spinning you away and catching you again, you meet together with your faces much too close to be proper, but you hardly care with the way he looks down at you.

“The moment I saw you sitting in the back of that transport plane, I knew for sure you were my dream girl, you know that?” he tells you breathlessly. “I spent my entire recovery when I was shot down daydreaming about you, rereading every letter you wrote me.”

“You’re just trying to charm me now!” you accuse playfully. Jake chortles, and shakes his head.

“I told all my nurses about you, how I was going to marry you when the war was over,” he says, making your heart skip several beats.

“And all because I fixed your plane up real good?” you ask, unsure how else to respond. Jake raises an eyebrow and fixes you with an amused expression.

“Clearly you don’t grasp how attractive that is.”

“Clearly I don’t.”

“I hope my being unavailable didn’t hurt you, back then,” you say softly, surprised when Jake only shrugs minimally.

“Other than curbing my ability to seduce you, I knew one way or the other things would work out,” he tells you, sounding oddly serious. You blink at him, but cock your head slightly.

“I suppose they have, haven’t they?”

“I knew you liked me,” Jake says teasingly, leaning his face even closer to yours so that your noses almost touch. You roll your eyes, but don’t move back.

“How could I not? I’ve spent the last year feeling like a fool because I thought I’d never see you again!” you reply, lamenting the wasted time.

Jake hums, making you suck in a breath when he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve been looking for you, but I didn’t even know your full name, or if you’d had it changed… But I’d never have left you, not when you never left me, no matter how many planes of yours I got shot out of.”

“Please don’t ruin this moment by reminding me,” you scold him, making the blond laugh. After a few beats of swaying together, you wrap your hands back around his neck and lean into him. You feel Jake’s head come to rest on yours, the both of you looking out at the dancefloor, where you spot Rooster and Bea dancing alongside Pheonix and Bob.

“Who do you think will have the wedding bells ringing first?” you ask wistuflly. Jake takes a moment to answer, humming briefly before he replies.

“Us.” He tells you matter of factly.

You can't help but giggle, and blindly smack his shoulder lightly.

“You’re hopeless!” you say, shaking your head where it lays against his chest. Jake only tightens his hold on you.

“Can’t let those nurses down, can I? They told me I had to marry you if you still hadn’t left me after the amount of times I was shot down.”

Against him you grumble, and poke his neck a little more forcefully.

“I wouldn’t recommend tyring that again,” you say darkly. You feel the man straighten ever so slightly, his head bobbing as he nods.

“Yes ma’am.” He affirms. You stay dancing closely, wrapped up in one another until he speaks again. “Will you come down to base tomorrow, look over my plane?” He asks quietly, and you can’t help but grin. Pulling back from him, you gaze into his green eyes, finding pure hope and adoration there.

“Only if you kiss me first.”

[kennahjune]

Trauma bond? No. Bro bond.

Was having Steve and Lucas bro bond thoughts that accidentally turned into Steve whump.

…

Steve and Lucas bonding over sports more than anyone realized they ever would.

Like yeah, everyone knew Steve played basketball and was on the swim team in high school; that was practically his entire personality for a bit. But they never realized how much he actually /liked/ the sports.

Until he was geeking out with Lucas over a new play they’d thought of.

It was odd for them all to see Steve so excited. They watched on from their seats on the front porch steps. Eddie and Jonathan each had a beer, the both of them sharing a blunt with Argyle. Nancy and Robin sat on the steps below them, watching on while Steve and Lucas payed them no mind from the driveway.

It was almost comical— how the moment Lucas showed up on his bike Steve was up in an instant. After confirming it was indeed not a code red, Steve was quick to join Lucas. Especially after being told it was basketball related.

Steve had kicked his own beer over in his haste to get up.

Now Steve and Lucas were in the driveway, the garage door down (to prevent damage to the cars) and the Harrington’s basketball hoop out. Both were blissfully unaware of the eyes following them. Well, the eyes following /Steve/, it was more like.

Circling back the earlier thought; they’d never seen him to engaging in something. So excited. So…happy.

Which was really sad to think about.

“I’ve never seen him so excited over something,” Nancy said, speaking everyone’s thoughts.

Well. Except Argyle’s, it seems. “Nah, man. He gets like this anytime he starts talking about sports. We were watching a soccer game on TV last night and he was like— totally freaking out! Waving his hands around and talking a mile a minute.”

He took a puff of the blunt and passed it to Eddie, unaware of how he just tilted everyone’s worlds.

“Wait—“ Eddie took a drag and his voice was strained while he kept in the smoke “—he actually talks to you about that shit?”

Argyle hummed and looked at Eddie oddly. Eddie blew the smoke out and held Argyle’s eye.

“Yeah dude. All the time. Might help that I played volleyball back in Cali but— really, I just like hearing him talk. And I think he likes talking. He talks a lot.”

Argyle was getting extra talkative now, his sentences becoming shorter and more frequent. That’s how you knew he was high enough to not care.

“He’s never really been that talkative,” mumbled Robin, a sudden kind of dread settling uncomfortably in her chest.

Argyle shrugged. “Maybe you don’t talk about what he likes to talk about. He likes talking about sports. And romance books. He reads a lot of romance books.”

Well isn’t that something, Eddie thought. Steve Harrington likes to read.

(It brought up a distant memory from high school, from Steve’s sophomore year and Eddie’s junior year. Back before “King Steve” meant “jackass”.

“Well well, looky here, fellas! King Steve is gracing us peasants with his presence.” Eddie called mockingly to the young man sitting at the table in the library.

Steve— only 15 at the time, not 16 for another couple of months— looked up from his book with furrowed brows and a pout on his pretty pink lips. A pout that 21 year old Eddie would come to love.

Steve hadn’t done to much in the interaction. He more or less sat in silence while Eddie went on and on about something he couldn’t remember now.

When Steve had gotten up from the table, he doggy-eared his page (like a monster) and tucked the book under his arm. Eddie saw the title only briefly, “Forever Amber”.)

“Do we really never talk about his interests?” asked Jonathan to the sky, his head tilted up while he blew the smoke away.

They all startled when a series of shouts and laughs came from Lucas and Steve in the driveway. Eddie looked over in time to watch Steve pull Lucas in for a hug where they both patted each others backs aggressively. Eddie’s seen the guys do that at games. Some kind of weird bro-hug.

Eddie continued to watch when Steve bent down to pick up the rolling basketball. Eddie’s mind went other places quick enough when Steve pulled his shorts up a little higher. Robin smacked his calf.

“Seriously, you guys never talk to him about sports?” Argyle asked, flabbergasted. And I suppose he had every right to be. These were some of Steve’s closest friends. His boyfriend and his best friend! And they never got to listen to Steve rant about a particular basketball game from high school? About some specific swimming stroke and how it helped him win swim competitions?

They were seriously missing out.

Robin hung her head in shame and thought about it, her eyes misting over the more she realized that— yeah, she never talked to Steve about sports. Let alone his other interests. (Did he have other interests? That fact that she had to ask this question made her want to cry and hug Steve.)

Robin picked her head up and propped it in her hands. She looked on with everyone else as Steve and Lucas cheered about something or other.

.

Steve tossed Lucas the ball in the driveway. He bent himself at the knees and placed his hands on his thighs, breathing heavily.

“Alright, Sinclair. Hit me.” he smirked.

He and Lucas had been tossing the ball back and forth for close to an hour now, both excited to get this play right. Lucas dribbled the ball three times on the ground quickly before he set into motion.

Steve cut him off to the left, but Lucas swerved to the right so fast he nearly toppled himself over. Steve turned and jumped in front of him just in time to body slam him slightly. Not nearly as rough as he could’ve been, holding back because they were outside on concrete and Steve wasn’t going to be responsible for a concussion.

The ball rolled away into the grass, unnoticed while Steve gave Lucas a hand and pulled him up.

Lucas was taking heaving breaths, and for a scary moment Steve was worried he’d slammed him too hard and knocked his lungs around. It’s possible. That’s why Steve himself had an inhaler in the drawer closest to his bed.

But then Lucas was laughing, and soon Steve was to.

“Dude! How’d you do that? I’ve never seen anyone move like that man!” Lucas praised over his heavy breathing. Steve chuckled and took his own deep breaths.

He clapped Lucas on the shoulder, grabbed the ball, and steered him towards the porch. “Plant your feet next time.” He felt a ping of anger and sadness at the words, but tramped it down.

It was only when he’d reached the porch with Lucas that Steve realized they were alone outside. Had everyone gone inside? Did sports seriously bore them so much that they just up and left? The thought made something bitter churn in Steve’s gut.

Whatever.

He led Lucas through the door and dropped the basketball on the porch by the door. It was muddy and his floors were going to remain white for as long as possible thank you very much.

They both left their shoes by the door and traveled to the kitchen, Lucas talking about how fast he’d ducked and wanting to know what Steve meant by planting his feet. Steve agreed to another playing session the next day with a grin. It was nice to have someone who enjoyed what he did.

He tossed Lucas a bottle of water from the fridge and made sure the kid drank it all. They sat with each other at the counter for a minute, Steve idly sipping his water and listening to Lucas’ still heavy breaths.

“Damn, I still can’t catch my breath man.” Lucas laughed lightly.

Steve smiled and set his water down.

“Wait here, don’t do anything stupid.”

Lucas gave him a two finger salute as he walked off upstairs. Steve was sure to avoid the living room and was quick to grab the aforementioned inhaler from his drawer. He jogged back into the kitchen and sat next to Lucas one more.

“Ok, so I’m assuming you know what an inhaler is.”

Lucas nodded, staring at the inhaler in Steve’s hand oddly.

“I don’t have asthma,” Lucas said matter-of-factly.

Steve chuckled. “And neither do I. But there are times where you get knocked around too much or too hard, and it can rattle your lungs. I found that out the hard way when I was 14 and had my first asthma attack. My lungs had rattled so much they got trapped between my ribs and my mom had to take me to the hospital.”

Lucas winced. “Seriously? How the hell did you manage that?”

My dad got a little too rough, Steve thought. But decided against saying that, obviously. He smiled and shook his head. “Not important.”

Steve uncapped the inhaler and gave it a good shake. “Ok, I’m assuming you know at least a little about using one of these but one things for sure, you’ve gotta fix your posture.”

Lucas immediately straightened his back.

Steve went on explaining about how curling into yourself like that basically compressed your lungs and made breathing harder.

He held the inhaler to Lucas’ mouth and instructed him to breathe in and hold it for as long as he felt he could before releasing slowly.

Lucas did as instructed, and after no more than two puffs Steve instructed him to simply keep his back straight and take deep breaths through his nose and to release slowly through his mouth.

Lucas left on his bike a few minutes later with a few snacks and an extra bottle of water in his bag. Steve told him to talk to his parents about getting him a medical inhaler if he planned to stick out basketball for all of high school. Steve knew how aggressive those kids could be, and while it wasn’t always necessary it was helpful.

When he closed the door behind Lucas he went straight to the living room.

Where apparently everyone had relocated.

“Uh.. hey?” Steve waved pathetically. He had really no idea what to do with the 5 pairs of eyes on him.

“Ok? Um— seriously why are you all looking at me like that? It’s fucking freaky.” Steve curled in on himself a little, folding his arms and hunching his shoulders.

Robin was the first to shoot out of her seat on the couch. Steve was given no warning before he was engulfed in a hug.

“Oh? Ok—“ He wrapped his arms around her tightly. “What happened, Robs? You alright?” he asked from where his face was tucked into her neck.

She nodded, but it was obvious something was wrong.

When Robin let go she dragged Steve by the wrist to the couch and sat with him. He looked at everyone else settled in the living room and raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t like— an intervention or something, right?” he tried to joke. Argyle seemed to find it funny at least. Steve smiled at him where he sat on the floor by the coffee table.

Then there was an arm wrapping around his waist from the side Robin wasn’t pressed against and Steve wasted no time leaning his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“What’s up with you guys, huh? You’re quiet and it’s scary. I don’t like it.” Steve muttered the last part under his breath and more to himself. But Eddie squeezed his hip reassuringly.

“Nothing’s up, baby. How was everything with Lucas?” Eddie asked. Steve barely gave himself time to pause before he answered, “Good. He’s been moving a lot faster lately.”

He bit his tongue against the slew of words he wanted to spill about everything they’d done in that hour they’d been outside. Instead he said,

“Sorry. Totally ditched you guys for the ball.” He chuckled, trying to take the weight of the words off some. Eddie tutted.

“Don’t apologize, Steve. You looked like you having fun.” Came Nancy’s unexpected reply. Steve’s head shot up to look at her before traveling back to Argyle, who gave him a vague “go on” gesture with his hand.

“Uh..” He pulled his eyes back to Nancy. “Yeah, had a lot of fun. Um— you guys alright?”

Jonathan groaned and Steve watched Nancy hit him on the arm. They had a whole argument with their eyes before Nancy deflated. What the hell?

“Steve.” Jonathan started. Steve flinched slightly and didn’t relax when Eddie squeezed his hip.

He braced himself for the laughs, the jeers. Them telling him they didn’t care that he had fun and that they had to go.

“We’re sorry.”

Steve blinked. You’d think an apology that sounded so heartfelt would lower his inner walls a bit, but it only served to raise them higher. Because—

“What the fuck? Why?”

Jonathan rubbed the back of his head and let Nancy take the lead this time.

“For brushing you off.”

Steve blinked, his inner walls no longer rising but not lowering either.

“For not showing that we cared whenever you started talking about your sports and things.” Was Robin’s add-on from beside him.

Steve flinched and made to get up but remembered he was kind of held down by both Robin and Eddie.

“So this is an intervention? Guys it’s fine, seriously—“

“No. It’s not. Stop talking for a second and let us be sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie’s grip tightened again and Steve tried to find comfort in it like he normally did, but he was so uncomfortable right now it was unbelievable.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been apologized to. Not like this. Not with such sincerity.

It scared him, honestly.

“We’re sorry we didn’t bother trying to show interest in anything you did even though you always made sure to show interest in ours,” was how Eddie finished.

“Even with all the teasing you add in.” Chuckled Jonathan.

Steve found a bit of the comfort he was searching for.

He cleared his throat. “Um ok— so—“

“Not done.” Demanded Nancy.

Steve shut up.

“We’re sorry that we made fun of your interests and maybe made you feel like you couldn’t share your thoughts and feelings with us in fear of getting ridiculed.”

And good God if that wasn’t right on the money.

Steve swallowed against the tears that threatened to mist over his vision.

He laughed quietly instead. And maybe he looked like he was going insane but Jesus Christ— he couldn’t take this right now. He was not expecting a fucking apology after an hour of playing basketball.

What the fuck has his life turned into?

“Ok— done now?” he asked. And when nobody spoke up against him he continued.

“So um— thanks? For the apology? I guess— I guess I just don’t understand. Why are you guys apologizing when you didn’t do anything wrong?”

That got him a chorus of groans that made him curl into himself more. He hung his head and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer, a nervous habit he’d developed in middle school.

“Steve.” Robin gently said. “We have every reason to apologize and fucking grovel.”

Steve wasn’t given a single moment to protest.

“Sweetheart, what did you do yesterday when I was talking about my campaign?”

Steve looked at Eddie funny. “Dude I don’t know— I think you started talking about it while I was cooking?”

Eddie nodded. “And then you told me to hold on while you put the lasagna in the oven so you could give me your full attention.”

Steve blinked dumbly, not quite getting it.

“That’s the bare minimum, Ed. You were talking about something you really liked so I made sure you knew I was listening.”

And oh wow. It just dawned on him.

“Exactly, honey. None of us— except Argyle, apparently— have been giving you the attention you deserve even though you give us yours no matter what.”

“Steve you listened to me drone about types of cameras and film last week for three hours and didn’t complain once. I know for a fact that shit was boring to listen to because I’ve been told so by both Will and El numerous times.”

Steve stared at Jonathan.

“Ok, sure. But I don’t see— I don’t get— I don’t care that you guys don’t listen to me. Sports are complicated and yeah sure it kind of hurts when you scoff as if it doesn’t mean shit—“

Eddie’s grip tightened considerably.

“—but it— I get it. You guys aren’t obligated to listen to my shit. I listen to you guys because I want to. Because I like hearing you talk about things you’re passionate about. Like Nancy and that new article for the school paper about the different recipe for the meatloaf that makes it taste like dirt, apparently. Or how Polaroid cameras actually date all the way back to like— 1948. Or—“

“But that’s the thing, Steve.” Nancy cut him off. “You listen to these things and remember them because you want to. Because you’re a good friend and good friends listen. We—“ he waved her hand around to all of them “—have not been good friends.”

Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat while Nancy continued.

“The fact that you remember my exact words of calling the meatloaf dirt just proves that. Because we had that conversation, what? A month ago?”

“Three weeks ago.” Me mumbled uselessly.

Nancy sighed.

Robin sat up and took Steve’s face in her hands. “Stevie. We love you. So let us.”

And just like that, Steve was engulfed in a giant group hug.

He didn’t realize how much it’d affected him before now. How being scoffed at and made fun of— even if it was playful— hurt him so much that he’d just stopped talking about things.

When they pulled away Eddie kissed his forehead and Robin kissed his cheek. Steve giggled at the sudden affection.

…

Bonus:

The very next day, Steve saw the change.

Saw the change in how Eddie made sure to ask him about what he was cooking and then let Steve explain the process of a breakfast casserole. How Eddie simply smiled and even engaged with questions as if he was really interested. And maybe Steve didn’t completely believe he was interested, but that was ok. He’d come to his senses eventually.

Then at work Robin made a point to let him choose what they put on the TV for the day and didn’t even complain when he chose the Breakfast Club.

He was scared that they change would last no more than a week. That after some time they’d all go right back to how it was before.

But then a week passed. And two. And three. And then months we’re going by where Steve was allowed to rant and talk and argue about things like cooking and baking and basketball and soccer and volleyball and so much more because they would listen.

And then a year passed and it was April and it was his birthday and when he was surrounded by everyone— the kids, the older teens, even the adults— he opened a present and looked down at the book in his lap.

“Forever Amber”.

Steve will never admit to the tears that he cried that day.

…

Probably gonna do something like this with Lucas and the kids cause I love Lucas ❤️

Here’s that lol:

[monimccoythings]

Cuteness Overload

Just saw the movie. What a masterpiece. And (spoiler warning) I'm glad they did Charles Martinet justice even though I still think it should have been him voicing Mario. And of course, I'm in love with Jack Black's portrayal of bowser, excellent representation of a good creepy and psychotic villain that stole the entire movie. I loved it so much I'm writing a Y/N fic (My favorite little hoe, but this time is more on the platonic side). This contains a huge spoiler for the movie, specifically the ending. I'd recommend to watch the movie first.

Next Parts: 2, 3, 4, 5

So, a couple of weeks ago your entire neighborhood got destroyed because of some epic anime battle that just casually happened over there. How cool is that? Or how horrible, because thanks to that you just have to take the biggest detour ever known to man to get to work. But hey, at least you had a nice walk.

You getting into the mushroom kingdom was entirely by accident. Yes, you were curious about that new world but never had the time or will to go on a transdimensional travel. Thank goodness there was an open sewer hole laying there (which you completely missed) to help you take the initiative.

If you didn't took into account that nightmarish journey through the tunnels, the Mushroom Kingdom was a pretty interesting place to be. The toads were very friendly and kind fellas, some of them carefully checking you out for injuries and advising you to go see the princess in order to help you get safely home.

Okay, forget about the journey through that cosmic rabbit hole, going up to the castle was way worse. You didn't remember having exercised that much, not even in P.E. You swore your vision was blurry after all that.

Princess Peach was the most loving, kindhearted badass you had the pleasure to meet. That kind angel sent down from heaven upon seeing your miserable state, generously offer you to step in for tea and pastries, while the royal doctor (another toad but this cutie came with a stetoscope and a labcoat) made sure you didn't had seriously injured yourself with the fall.

As dignified and courteous she tried to act. It was obvious she was very excited to meet another person from Brooklyn. Soon you found yourselves engaged in conversation. It felt easy talking to her, like you were talking to an old friend. You suddenly felt very glad you didn't see that sewer hole.

Mario and Luigi stopped by as well, and the second they opened their mouths you recognised them as those two dudes from that dope ass commercial. So they were the ones that were in the middle of the battle in Brooklyn. Good for them, you were glad things turned out great.

You were having the time of your life, they were really chill and easy going people, which put you more at ease. As time passed, you heard the faint sound of a piano being played. When you asked your new friends about it, they just shrugged and Princess Peach gave you a half smile saying that it was her "pet turtle".

Whoah. This was truly a magical place. Her pet turtle played the piano?? And very well by the sound of it. Peach asked you if you wanted to see it. Of course you wanted to see it! Mario and Luigi gave each other uncertain looks, but in the end they just shrugged it off.

After a long walk through the hallways you finally reached a room. The toad guards immediately stepped away when they saw their ruler approach, but gave you a look full of suspicion. Peach softly reassured them.

She opened the door for you and let you in. The room wasn't any different from the castle except that it was completely devoid of any furniture but a single golden cage with THE TINIEST TURTLE PLAYING THE TINIEST PIANO YOU HAD EVER SEEN.

Said turtle was now looking perplexed and midly annoyed that it had been interrupted, but its eyes lighted up when they landed on Peach, who suddenly looked very done and tired. But how could you notice when its mere sight alone was too much for you to bear.

It was SO CUTE. SO DARN CUTE. Cuteness overload. You had died and were sent to adorable heaven where tiny turtles played teeny tiny pianos. You made sure to tell it that several times, making Mario burst out laughing. And it got even better from that moment, because out of that turtle mouth came the most colorful collection of threats and insults in a HIGH PITCHED voice that made your heart melt. Because of course it, he, had a high pitched voice. That only made you gush out more, you loved animals but specially you absolutely adored reptiles.

Mario was literally holding himself against the wall to keep himself from falling for laughing so hard. Luigi was cry laughing and Peach was trying to cover her face, but it was clear that from the way her shoulders rose and went down that she was practically wheezing.

You asked Peach if you could hold him for a while, to which she seriously, or at least she tried to sound serious in the middle of all that laughter, answered that it was too dangerous to let him out. But how could something as darling as that do any wrong? Peach gently pulled you out of the room, but not before you let out a "Bye bye, piano playing turtle, I love you." To a very blushing and mortified turtle.

Turns out that the turtle had comitted war crimes. Very bad war crimes. And even though he was still a little cutie to you, he got what he deserved and shouldn't be let out under any circumstances. Still, you were def going to visit him again.

[misguidedasgardian]

Blurred Lines (5)

5. Run

MASTERLIST

Summary: You know what they say “He that fights and runs away, lives to fight another day” 

Warnings: Cursing, cheating, adultery, talks about body shaming, therapy, misogynistic undertones (“man of the house” and whatnot), Harwin is not a good person on this… and Jace isn’t either, implied tampering with birth control, spy cameras, a bit creepiness, alcohol consumption, inappropriate relationship

Wordcount: 2,5 k

Notes: Sorry for the delay, I really wasn't int he right headspace to write this particular fic hehehe. THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN SMUT, ONLY ANGST sorry... also... the next one will be the last jejeje

Even in such a big house you felt constantly watched, you felt like you could finally breathe once you got into your car. Aerea in the backseat, you let her watch something on your ipad for the trip so she wouldn’t get fuzzy, and was currently watching her favorite show with baby dragons in it.

You looked back at the huge mansion, and Aemond was staring back at you from the window that you guessed was his room…

Strange fella that one, you thought, as you took a long breath and started the car

You needed to put some distance

You wanted to erase from your mind what you did, you fucked Jace, in his grandfather’s house! his mother and family were under the same roof!

This has gone too far

You needed to get away

Harwin was going to get that job

He was going to move away

And you were going to move also, put some distance between them… you had to, this was not alright

You had interacted with Rhaenyra as she was your equal, Jacaerys’ mother, she was your generation, not Jace, this was wrong

When you went back to the house, Harwin had come back, and you sighed loudly, not ready to deal with him. You grabbed Aerea and he came out of the house to help you with your bags.

You felt guilty when he did all those nice things for you, he wanted you back, acting all kind, and sweet, and helpful,  and you were fucking his son

“How was it?”, he asked with that ridiculous sweet smile

“It was nice, but if you were here, why didn’t you make the journey up there?”, you asked trying not to sound accusing

“I just got back”, he answered simply, as you both entered your home

“Oh”

You didn't want to engage with him, but Saera started talking non-stop to his papa about the fun things she had done over the weekend and how nice her “daddy” had been

Harwin also didn’t notice any red flags about his own daughter calling his son “daddy” and him “dada”, what was wrong with them? it still made you nervous that your daughter did so…

“I can put Aerea to sleep”, he offered, “you go and relax momma”. Momma, he called you that since Aerea was born

You barely nodded, you were exhausted

You took a long shower, you washed your hair and took your time, and to your amazement, when you got out, Harwin had actually managed to make Aerea go to sleep, so it was only the two of you

“I ordered Pizza, your favorite”, he said with again… that sickly sweet smile

“That is very considerate Harwin, thanks”

No, you couldn’t do this to yourself, you couldn’t gave him not even an inch of space, he was going to slip right back in, you couldn’t

You ate the pizza and drank some wine in a silence so awkward it almost took your appetite away 

But once you had drank between the two the whole bottle of wine, there was the perfect excuse to go back to your room, and you did, under Harwin’s hopeful gaze

You didn't have the strength to do anything else, you just dropped to the bed got under the covers and went to sleep 

The days and weeks that followed blurred together in a weird daze

Harwin got the job outside of the city, so he was commuting almost every day, sometimes sleeping in a motel somewhere in between, trying to settle into his new job. And you were not going to let him back in, so he was coming to terms to look for another house, and that you were officially separated 

It was hard to you too, you did not want to stay in the house anymore, even though it was beautiful and you loved it

You started working again and Aerea would stay with a nanny, and Jace… well…

He was attending the University up North, and the summer was coming to an end

For your best of lucks, you haven't seen him, the last time in his grandfather’s house was some sort of breaking point, the straw that broke the camel's back, the last drop to fill the glass, whatever you called it

What he had said, the danger it brought you

Instead of turning you on, it had sort of broke you

You didn’t want this anymore

You were a person, a rational person and as such you couldn’t think with your instincts, you had to be rational, and the rational thing to do was to divorce Harwin, get a house of your own, and start rebuilding your life, hoping that the next times you see Jace, other people were going to be present

You could do this

Besides, he hasn't said anything to you the last days, a part of you felt sad, he was, after all, using you, for the thrill of the forbidden sex, the taboo or Gods know what, that saddened you, that he was able to do all of this, just for his horniness and nothing else

But the biggest part of you, was extremely relieved, extremely relieved that he was slowly drifting to the background

It had to keep being like this

It was the best for all of you, if he could let this go.

You just dropped Aerea in her daycare, and then you entered your work building quickly, with coffee for you, Sara and your boss in hand, your heels clicking on the marble floor. Gods it was a long drive from your apartment, you knew that from your godmother’s apartment it would be a few blocks away

You needed to move 

“Sorry I’m late, the barista took forever”, you said apologetically to your boss’ assistant

“No matter, but there is someone waiting for you at your office”, she murmured with a shy smile

“I had no meeting today”, you said worried

“He said he was a friend that needed to speak to you”

You frowned, not knowing what to expect, but as soon as you opened your office door, you gasped, not being able to hide your surprise

“What are you doing here?”, you asked.

The man raised from his seat slowly, his movements elegant and almost calculated

“Is that how you greet everyone?”, he asked in his soothing voice, but mocking you nonetheless

You stopped at the door to your office looking at him, he had not done anything to you, but, his mere presence upsetted you, you didn’t even know why.

But you smiled nonetheless 

“I’m sorry”, you apologized, “it's just… I wasn’t expecting you”, he only smirked

Aemond Targaryen in the flesh

“You do work in business don’t you not?”

“Do you need counseling on business administration?”, you asked weirdly

“Of sorts”, he said, taking a seat in front of your desk, “I came in for a consultation, of a potential business opportunity, for you, and of course, for me”, you took your seat behind your desk and smiled

“Sure, what is it about?”, you asked

“I send you something to your business mail”, he said calmly, you wanted to know how he got it, but you refrained for questions you were afraid of the answers 

As you were logging in your office computer, he spoke calmly, his straight posture, his relaxed demeanor, made you relax, until of course, he got to the point

“Since the first time I saw you I knew that we could be… acquainted…”

“Oh really?”, you asked nervously, the server was taking forever in loading your mail”. Aemond since the very time you saw him… gave you the creeps, he had something weird about him

“The moment you entered the Manor”, of course he would refer to his castle of a home as “a manor”, “all doe eyed and shy”, he purred, he made you terribly uncomfortable, incredible so, you shifted in your seat trying to hide a smile 

“Maybe you would be more comfortable with my senior partner”, you muttered

“And then when i saw you at night though…”, his words were in the back of your mind as you finally opened the mail he had sent you, and the files attached to it

“.... Whining and moaning as a wanton whore when your own stepson was fucking you”, you gasped, your eyes filled with tears as you saw, videos and photos of you and Jace, in your guest room at the manor last weekend 

“How…?”, you were already crying, fat tears streaming down your face

“Now now, don’t cry”, he said, amused, “there is no reason to be scared…”

“What do you want?”, you asked, “why are you here?”

“I told you… I think an arrangement between the two would be beneficial…”, you looked at him, frowning

Was he going to blackmail you? what for?

Oh gods, this was it, your biggest mistake, greatest indiscretion, right there, for everyone, anyone to see.

What had you done?

You wiped your tears decisively, it was done, there is nothing you could do about it, and now, it was going to fall on its own weight

“Aemond… What sort of arrangement? What could I possibly do for you…?”, you asked, trying to get calm

“Well, now but getting to you a little better I think… that I want the same arrangement my nephew is getting”, you looked up at him wide eyed

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, why would you settle with him? it’s too messy”, he said dismissively, as he was talking about a lab partner, “and besides, I have a thing for milfs”

“Shut up”, you demanded, now angrily, “what is it that you want, Aemond? I barely know you, you barely know me”

“I told you…”

“I’m not some whore”, you said angrily

“Really? could have fool me”, he mocked you

“Get out!”, you demanded, “get out of here”

“Are you sure?”, he asked, he didn’t even move, “I’m so clumsy you see, a wrong move of a finger and i can send those pictures to anyone! like my sister… or my brother in law”, another tear fell down your cheek

“What do you want?”, you asked then, he only chuckled

“To discover why would my idiotic nephew would ruin his relationship with his father for a shag with you”, he said, “you must be… quite the thing”

“I’m not a whore”, you said firmly

“Let’s cut to the chase”, he said, already bored of your reluctancy, “be mine, instead of his, and I won’t show these pictures to my family”, he said simply, “not to my sister, and not to my ex-brother in law”

“Why?”, you asked him

“Why?”, he asked back

“You are handsome and rich, why come after me? you could have any woman you’d ever wanted”, you said then

“Like I said, you have a thing, and I want it… whatever it is”

“Even if you are making me?”, you said

“Specially if I’m making you”, he teased with a sick smile

 You took a second, only a second, to think about it

Would you seriously be going to let yourself be blackmailed by him? You are feeling so guilty about everything, maybe this had to happen, maybe this is how you pay for what you did

“Get out”, you repeated

“Are you sure?”, he asked back

“Get the hell out of my office”, you said back, he barely nodded, standing up, he took from his suit’s jacket a card and left it atop your desk

“If you change your mind… you have 24 hours”, he had a flare for the dramatic

He left your office elegantly, like everything else he did, and once he disappeared and closed the door behind you, you were able to breathe, finally

You took a long shaky breath 

This was it, the payment for your sins.

You deleted the email, wiped your tears, and moved on with your work day.

Accepting his “offer” was out of the question, and you were splitting with Harwin, so, the repercussions wouldn’t be so large, you hoped

Perhaps your job? you always knew you wanted to move out of this city

Harwin, you were going to hurt him irreparably, him and his relationship with his son, that is what you were scared of the most, but they were father and son, maybe they could work through it, mabe… 

The Targaryen shadow was a long one, but you had a family of your own, and in the worse case scenario, you were going to change cities and jobs, maybe have full custody of Aerea, and move even to a different country

You could do this

You grabbed Aemond’s card and destroyed in the paper crusher 

The day turned long and as weird as its sounds, as you didn’t get another text from Jace, make your resolve even stronger, you called in a express moving company, and when you got home with Aerea, the movers were already in your place

“I’ll mark everything I want you to take with a pink post-it, the rest leave it”, you demanded to the guys, and they nodded.

You took everything you paid for, everything you had bought, and the bed as well, and in the end of the day, you were settled in your godmother’s apartment downtown, as easy as that 

You started receiving texts and calls from Harwin, who had come home to an partially empty house.

“I really thought we were on our way to rebuild our home”, he said on the phone, and a single tear fell down your cheek, oh if he knew, well, he was going to soon enough

“I’m sorry Harwin, but i think this time apart has done me more good than bad and… and I thought about it, and infidelity is not something… someone should ever forget”, you heard him sigh over the line

“I’m so sorry love”

“Me too”, you said that with way more sentiment that you should have

“I wish we can keep being cordial, for Aerea’s sake”

“That goes without saying”, you whispered

“I’ll pick her up next week”, he said lowly

“I know you had concerns about we both living here downtown…”

“That was a bullshit excuse”, he said, “for you not to leave the house, but… i trust you”

“Alright, goodbye Harwin…”

“goodbye my love”, and you hang up the phone

. . .

You don’t know what Aemond did with those photos, since nobody had said anything or tell you anything… and you didn’t know if to feel relief, or even more guilt, somehow you were waiting for your atonement, but it never came

Jace sent you some texts, telling you he had come back to college to deal with some important things, you guessed… classes, he was going to come back soon according to him, but it was of no consequence, because you didn’t answer, you even blocked his number.

Aerea was with Harwin, and you just got home back from work, a couple of weeks had gone by and you… were feeling terribly wrong, something was terribly wrong with you..

Bitter tears fell down your face when you grabbed the pregnancy test you had bought from your purse, your throat constricted on a choke

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[1u11ablues]

Repentance (Phillip Graves x Fem Reader)

WC: 2.4k

Warnings: Smut(Soft), begging, slight groveling, kneeling, mild lover's argument. (Suggestive picture under see more)

Phillip comes home late, so he had to endure his punishment.

If there’s one thing Phillip won’t admit to his Shadows over team drinking nights, is that he’s just another fella smitten with his woman.

Yes, they knew he was in a relationship. And he left it at that.

Who wants to hear a man singing about his lady over what was technically a boy’s night?

But you had this rule for his night outs.

“If it’s past three and you ain’t home,” you warned him, “then sleep outside.”

See, he gets a little forgetful when he’s had a little too much in his system. And since today was one of his Shadow’s birthday, and multiple rounds were ordered along with entertainment in the form of competitive team dart session-

It slipped his mind. It really did.

He groaned as he looked at the time on his phone—a brand-new crack on the screen when he’d slipped on spilled beer and fell on his shins.

“I’m a dead man,” he whispered before entering.

Now, he knew he wasn’t supposed to be home, especially with the smell of alcohol wafting out of him. You hated that, so he would have to take the couch for the night after he showered and scrubbed himself clean. 

Thank the Lord for those two glasses of water he’d downed at the end of the night that made it even possible for him to do so.

His steps measured light. Even lighter than when he was sneaking behind an enemy.

Taking a quick glance at the sight of you on the bed while he was on the way to the bathroom, he knew just how much he’d fucked up by the looks of it.

There lay his missus with full-on pajamas, a cartoon print shirt and long pajama pants. A battle armor, if he had a say in it.

When did you even get those? He knew your wardrobe like the back of his hand. Knew the fancy silks and satins and its comfier, also equally luxurious counterparts’ cashmere and wool pajama sets. He knew, because he’d bought them for you. Strode into the store right behind you and let you pick them up yourself!

This wasn’t part of those trips, at least if memory serves him well.

So Phillip showered. Paused for a moment when he feels his guts coming up to greet the bathroom floor, but saved by his quick run to the toilet bowl.

Afterwards, he feels much, much better. Physically, only.

There’s the guilt niggling at the back of his head as he trails a longing gaze at you.

He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t.

How did he get here, his lips kissing the back of your neck? Arms, pulling you in by the waist?

Some people are sad drunks. Some, happy. 

He never hid from you that he was of the horny category.

“Baby,” he opens with affection to dull the impact of his mistake, “I’m back and I need you.”

No way you’re even up past eleven to know how late he returned from his night, is there?

“What time did you come home?”

Okay, he should’ve expected that.

“Late, honey. I’m sorry. Was having too much fun, we’re celebrating a birthday-“

“I didn’t ask for details.”

He sighed. He’s surely sleeping his hangover off on the couch today.

“Five. Sorry.”

“So you broke your promise. What next? Breaking this one too?” You raise your hand up, flashing the engagement ring he’d gotten you a couple months ago.

This time, his voice was firm.

“No, no way. I’m not taking that back, nor am I breaking it. Not that. Are you serious?”

A roll of your eyes tells him you’re not.

“So you’re here, feeling me up, when I specifically told you not to bother coming home after three?”

From his position behind you, he raised your left hand up to his lips, kissing every single finger, paying extra attention to the one with the ring. 

“I’m only a man, honey. I would choose to face your anger over your absence time and time again.”

“God, you’re so lucky that I am in love with you.”

He afforded a smile hidden by the flesh of your shoulder. This was the first time in a while that he’d come home later than he was supposed to, so he’s not too worried about the consequences. He’d been good so far. For you.

“Any punishment, I’ll take it with grace.”

***

He’s starting to regret saying that now. 

How could you and your pretty little head even come up with this torture?

Phillip knelt on the floor by the edge of the bed, his cock hard on display atop the duvet while you…you-

The pink vibrator pulsed on your clit, pussy spasming at every delicious contact—and he’s only able to watch.

He’s on his knees, his hand clasped behind his body, and he can only watch!

“Please, sweetheart, at least let me touch you,” he strained, muscles tensed more so to keep his restraints as per your request.

You and your ideas. His smart girl, if only he was not on the other side of it, he would be singing his praise.

But his cock only managed to twitch uselessly, wailing for the chance to be inside you as he watches you pleasure yourself right in front of him. Painting the duvet with strands of pre-cum that he couldn’t help but leak.

“It wouldn’t be a punishment if your hands are on me, Phillip. I know how you get after even two bottles of beer. I know, because they were usually the best fucking of my life—and I know not being able to do that is enough to make sure you keep to any promises you had made. How hard is it to text me and tell me you won’t be home by the time you promised to be home? I would’ve given you leeway if you had explained before.”

How in hell is this painful, yet so fucking hot?

To hear you tell him off like some sort of head principal while your pretty pussy cries in front of him. Oh, Jesus. He had half a mind to ask for private detention then and there.

“Yes, I get it now. Honey, please. Let me kiss you, at least. On both lips.” Because he’d be damned if his mouth isn’t out there lapping up all the arousal syruping down your thighs right this moment.

“No. Stay in position and take your punishment.”

His knees started to hurt, so he spread his thighs to take on a much lower, relaxed stance to help with it.

“What’s wrong, honey? Is it too much for you?”

He shakes his head. There is no way in hell he would want this to stop. If he knew you, he knew you didn’t mean to stop like he meant it.

No, you will actually stop everything and let the heat of the moment low to a simmer until it ends.

“I can take it. I just wish there’s something I can do with my cock…” he trailed off with his most pleading tone, a request laced within it that he hoped you could read.

“Fine. You want to touch yourself so bad? Do it.”

He straightened as you gave your permission, his length notched between the double mattresses layered on top of the bed base. Once upon a time, his girlfriend complained about his firm mattress. He went out the next day to get a softer one for her, and the rest is history.

“But,” you added, deflating with a single word, “if you do, you’ll have to say goodbye to fucking me for the rest of the day.”

An annoyed groan left him on instinct.

“I have given my lady too much power for her own good,” he muttered with mock regret, dramatizing the low shake of his head.

He was just about to go back to his kneeling position when he realized the predicament his cock was in.

You weren’t the only one with brilliant ideas.

He pushed his aching cock into the slit in between the mattresses.

“Fuck,” he accidentally moaned at the tightness. It was a far cry from a woman’s warmth, but he’s a man three days into an excursion in a dry desert.

Upon your narrowed stare, he placated.

“Hey, I’m not touching myself. Hands off. The mattresses just happened to be there when I needed it.”

After a moment of pause, the vibrator in your hold came to life again. A silent permission for him to go on.

So he thrusted. God, it feels so good then, when the need for pleasure overrode any other senses of his.

“You’ll chafe your cock,” you warned, but he did not care. You’re still making no move and said nothing to let him know that you wanted him inside you, so he was making do.

And if he chafes? Well, maybe that was his punishment.

“I can’t help it, honey. I’m so fucking horny, and you won’t let me touch you. See what you’ve done to me? Reduced me to a bed fucker.”

He pumped his hips slowly, savoring the contact with his cock. Imagining it was your pussy he was in, letting your distant moans guide his pace and rhythm. When you started to breathe shallow, he quickened, when you relaxed, he slowed.

And, pretty soon, his balls started to tighten.

But he would not have his climax be wasted into stuffed fabric. It wouldn’t be a very satisfying release, would it?

“I’m close, honey. I’m so close.”

His hips stuttered, but it didn’t stop.

“And?”

“At least share my orgasm with me. My beautiful, kind, wife-to-be. Did I mention kind? Cause I can whip out the thesaurus if that doesn’t satisfy you.”

It got a giggle out of you. If anything, at least he could hear that; a replacement for your sulking mood. He’d count that as a success.

You took your time. A click of the vibrator. Its hum no longer pestered his hearing. He’d watched you come at least three times in the duration of his punishment. Will you cease now? Love him back again?

You waddled on your knees to where he is, breasts staring him right in the eyes. 

No man would stop himself from looking.

He leaned in, eyes monitoring you for rejection, and when none crossed it, took the swell of you into his mouth. Kissing it to color, nipping at the nipple perking out at the attention, smiling like a goof as if he was taking a hit of something just at the precipice of a bad withdrawal.

Of your own accord, you dangle your leg from the bed right in front of him, lying down on the pillow he’d scoot under your back.

But, no. He hadn’t apologized quite enough.

Without minding the way his cock was positioned perfectly at your entrance now, he leaned down to kiss you. Everywhere he could reach. Your eyelids, temple, earlobes and the skin underneath it. The crown of your head, in between your eyebrows.

Muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” in between the kisses.

When your giggle relieved his heart enough, he pushed in. A gasp replaced your laugh.

He lets you hang on to his arms as he begins with a comfortable pace. Deep, to remind his cock of your warmth, paying attention to the sounds you make throughout it. Back, forth, the thrust back into you, a slap echoing in the room until your clit started to swell again, signaling that you’ve come down from your most recent orgasm and read for more.

“Am I forgiven?” A thrust. “Do you forgive me, baby?” Another.

You whined and nodded, facial expression carouselling between that of giddy happiness and of the bliss of pleasure, like you weren’t able to control yourself.

“Yes, you’re forgiven. If you promise not to repeat it,” your voice breathy as you replied. He could feel the sting of your nails surrounding his biceps, and God did that made him harder.

Faster. He’s already so close, but he wanted to hear it from you. How his punishment had earned him repentance. With his hands settling on your waist, he abandoned the depth of his strokes for speed, though not enough for it to not tear the little moans out from you, still.

What a gift for him to be able to hear them every day, and how it urged him to learn—and learn fast—about you, just so he would know what to pull to please you.

Maybe today wasn’t his best day. Humans make their mistakes. But, he thinks himself above average than that of the majority—his title and accomplishments so far in life are proof of it—and therefore strived to do his best in all other aspects of his life. 

The happiness of his lady wasn’t something he’s willing to compromise on.

“Promise,” his pace turned uneven. Droplets of sweat from his forehead fell onto your chest, to which he licked them off you.

He loosened his arms around your waist just to pay attention to your pretty clit, a fast rub left to right slippery enough for his thumb to stray away from it with every stroke. But he righted his position and try again.

His only tell of when you were about to come is the loud double exhale before your back arched off the bed, clamping his cock tight and fuck, amping up the sensation of fucking you.

Usually, your orgasm prompted this. Alas, he’s just an average man in this area of intimacy. The sounds, the pulsating, and damn, the hazy smile up as your hands come up to cradle your breasts up in some sort of satisfied self-hug-

“Fuck, honey-“

Phillip’s glutes tightened as it paused. He couldn’t thrust through his orgasm. Instead, he pressed deep into you and flooded you with his cum, a gush that soon wrapped back around his cock and stained it white when he eventually pulled out of you.

As soon as he slumped, head resting on your chest to take a breather, your thighs come up to hug around his waist. His eyes shut when your fingers carded through his hair to play with it. Wiping off the sweat with your palms before they could fall into his eyes.

Promise, he thought to himself. Through thickness and thin.

[whorediaries-09]

million dollar man;

pairing- sirius black x camgirl!reader warning(s)- drinking, 18+ content, slightly dark themes. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- shit's porn with no plot fr.

ps- 🎵i don't have to pretend i like acid rock🎵

masterlist

and I don't know how you get over, get over someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you

the plastic dildo stretches your pussy open, your hand fondling your breast as you continue you ram the dildo into yourself. you bite your lip, moans leaving your mouth as your device starts tuning endlessly, your viewers sending you money for the show you put on for them.

'fuck fuck, am so close,' you whimper, your walls clamping down around the dildo. your fingers entangle with silk sheets under you and you arch your back, cumming around the dildo.

'shit,' you scream, your orgasm taking you from within, consuming the shit out of you. you fondle with your clit trying to calm yourself, breathing heavy,

'yeah, thank you guys for the money and shit, i've gotta leave.' you suck your fingers audibly before turning off the stream.

'god,' you mutter to yourself, falling back on your bed, scrolling through your phone, going through your reminders. the metal of your ring sat cold on the hot skin of your forehead, sending shivers down your spine.

your phone rings. it's lily, and with some hesitation, you pick the phone up.

'hey,'

'hello,'

'why do you sound so breathless? are you okay?'

shit.

'yeah i'm okay. just burned a few eggs,'

stupid.

the sound of her slapping her hand against her forehead is audible through the line and you chuckle,

'seriously, woman you need to hire a chef or something to make you some simple eggs,'

'eh, i was just you know distracted,'

'hmm....so you remember the plan right?'

silence.

'plan?' you mutter.

'oh yeah you totally forgot. anyways i'm introducing you to my boyfriend and his friends at the local pub today...but you already know them,'

'yeah i know them, but i also know you,'

'yep... so nine thirty?'

'i'll see you there,' you confirm before she cuts off the line.

you had half an hour to get ready.

*****

while the place is not unfamiliar to you, and neither are the people around you, you feel out of place within the bounds of sitting in the group of people. everyone seemed to really know each other, and you felt like the black sheep of them group. and that was true, somewhat.

you only really knew lily properly, as you grew up as the shy and quiet kid in school. while james and his group were known throughout the school, you obviously had heard of them, but somewhere along the lines, you never engaged in much conversations with them. except for perhaps peter and remus, who seemed to be fairly quieter than the other two but not to be mistaken as the 'innocent fellas'. remus and peter seemed to be the masterminds of all the shenanigans the group caused within the walls of the school, but rarely engaging in the plans they curated themselves.

'so what do you do for the money?'

the question directed at you pulls you out of the stance and you stare blankly for a few moments before answering,

'nothing much right now, just working at a toyshop, what about you?'

you're not sure who had asked the question, but just to make it seem like you had been paying attention, you had asked back the question. but when the gray eyed, raven haired man had answered your voiced question, you felt a spark of heat lightening you up,

'i work at as a tattoo artist, but trying for a modelling career to be honest,' sirius answers, his voice similar to how you remembered it, yet so different. he pops an olive in his mouth, swirling his teeth over his front row of teeth. you feel his eyes gleam and scan you. you're not sure whether he's judging you or checking you out with the smirk on his pretty lips.

but there's something about his unbroken gaze that speaks to you, that makes you think that he knows something you don't. there's something about it that makes you feel hot from within, and a like a solemn chant, it echoes into your head. your lips curve around the glass of alcohol, the liquid unnervingly warm down your throat. you let the ice cube sit atop your tongue, the coldness numbing down the nerves of your senses.

'lily,'

'hmm?'

'i'm excusing myself.'

'yeah, yeah sure,'

******

'always wanted to feel this pretty pussy gripping my cock tight,' he groans into your ear, pushing your face into the dirty mirror of the washroom. how he got into the ladies washroom without offending anyone wasn't your lookout.

not when he was filling you up so much better than your stupid plastic dildo ever could.

you moan out in severe pleasure, feeling the coil of orgasm hit you again, build up in your nerves. his finger runs complicated figure eights on your sensitive clit and you throw your ass back, trying to get more of him inside your gushing hole.

'more, more, please sirius,' you beg. in a swift move, he's got you turned around, plunging himself into you even deeper, wrapping your legs around his hips. he smacks your ass, pushing three of his wet fingers into your mouth. he feels his the mixture of his warm cum and your saliva in your mouth. he brings your mouth down to his, and forming a pellet of spit on his tongue, he drops it into your mouth, and your groan.

'swallow it you filthy little thing,'

you obey, swallowing away the wrecked mixture of cum and spit. he splits you open, devouring the insides of your hole. his pubic hair teases with your stimulated clit. his cock hits your g-spot so perfectly, it makes you tear up, your mascara rolling down your heated cheeks.

he bites the skin of your neck, leaving spots, marking you all over. you feel trepid, the way he makes you see stars with every push of his cock inside you, filling you up with his treacherous, dirty words.

'f-fuck,' you scream, as you clench your walls around his cock, squirting open his torso. your eyes roll back, toes twisted against the sole of your slippers. you slack your mouth open, with the pleasure that his touch drives you into, and you're high, cock-drunk with the way he's filling you up, using you.

'thought i wouldn't recognize you?' he shudders, thrusting upto you, grabbing your bare nipple between his teeth.

'exposing all of this pretty cunt to the world, getting money with your pretty moans and words. how does it feel to let a real cock fill you up? hmm?' he asks, mockingly.

'so, so good,' you cry the walls of your overstimulated pussy. you cry it in a benevolent lust as he fucks you stupid, chasing his high.

'come on, come on, look at me,' he growls, grabbing your chin to make you look into his lust drowned eyes. you feel him empty himself into you, filling to till your guts, the warmth of his seed feeling you up. he circles around your sensitive clit, groaning and moaning into your ear, feeling the warm walls of your cunt flutter around him.

'now this pretty pussy is mine. j-just fucking mine.'

[goddessofmischief]

Hey! I adore your writing - everything feels like a character study and by that I don’t mean it’s lacking artistry I mean that each piece is so dynamically engaged with their internal worlds. Now I love me some Shanks and Mihawk but I am a Buggy Bitch and was hoping to get some time with him in this early on stage? If you wouldn’t mind, can we have a shot that shows why Buggy’s infatuation keeps going? Maybe a meaningful moment of kindness towards him or the like?

Thank you for your writing 💛

      GOLD RUSH - BUGGY X READER

A/N: Dude, I was smiling all day because of this message. Thank you so much! This is part of this series, which requests are open for! These fics are all one-shots, so they can be read separately. Also I highly recommend listening to the song linked in the title while you read.

Shanks and Mihawk had loved you, for various reasons, for their own motivations, from minute one.

...Buggy hadn't fallen for your charms so easily.

You were suspicious to him. He knew well enough that if something appeared too good from the outside, it was probably a trap. So for a long time after Roger had rescued you and brought you home to live with the pirates, Buggy treated all of your actions as if they had been the exact opposite, and always indicative of some secret evil.

You were kind to him? Only because you hated him so much. You looked pretty? Only because you were disguising some inner, deeper ugliness. You were a strong fighter? Only because of all the blood on your hands. You were intelligent? Only to deceive him.

It took a long, long time, and many months and even a few years to really wear him down. But when that had finally happened, Buggy was yours for life.

He fell for you in not one, but two moments: this, he vividly recalled, was the first.

It was a stormy day at a small port when you and Buggy stopped into a tavern for a drink. Shanks and Roger had stayed behind to fix the ship.

He had watched you with the smallest amount of interest, as if you were an amusement, as if you were a pretty bug. His original interest in you, small as it had been to begin with, had gone completely downhill when he realized you weren't really the performing type. You didn't like jokes or attention, and you certainly didn't beg for it the way Buggy did. The two of you hadn't really been able to form a relationship anyway, considering you spent most of your time with Shanks.

He'd ordered a drink too big for himself, and watched as you sipped daintily from a small one.

"That's so little," he said. "What's the point?"

You shrugged.

"I like being alert," you explained. "Makes it easier to stay safe."

Buggy snorted, rolling his eyes and turning back to his drink.

Two larger, older pirates sidled up on either of your sides', eyeing Buggy, but mostly you.

"Hey, sweetheart," said one of them. "You know this guy?"

"Yes," you said quietly. "He's my friend."

"...This clown?"

Buggy stiffened.

"Fellas, let's not-"

Shanks would have said let them talk. Shanks would have sat quietly until they were gone, or maybe just snickered at Buggy's plight.

But that's not what you did.

"He's stronger than either of you," you said nonchalantly, and the larger pirate stared at you.

"Really? The clown?"

"Really," you confirmed. The two pirates looked at Buggy, menacingly.

"He doesn't look very strong to me."

"We'll protect you, sweetheart. You don't need him."

"Honk, honk," the larger pirate jeered, reaching for Buggy's nose, and completely without warning you reeled back and punched him in the face.

Buggy was not prepared for that to happen.

The two pirates stood up and leered over you, intimidatingly. Buggy was stricken by the sudden realization of how large they both were, and how comparatively scrawny the two of you were.

But he knew he had to protect you. (If only to keep Shanks from killing him.)

And so Buggy punched the second guy, wincing as his fist hit him.

He wished he was stronger. God, in that moment, how he wished he was stronger.

(He didn't have the Chop Chop fruit yet. That would've been great.)

But Buggy was scrappy, and he didn't need much of an advantage in a melee situation. He was a kicker, a scratcher, and a biter. You were more elegant in your movements - almost balletic, and Buggy resolved to ask you about it later - but both of you managed to defeat them, and make it back to the ship in mostly one piece.

"Thanks," he said, quietly, as you sat cross-legged across from him, applying eyeliner. You had offered to fix his makeup using your own, and after a lot of protesting, he'd agreed.

Your eyes lingered over him. He looked away, suddenly embarassed.

"What for?"

"For, y'know, helping me out back there."

"Of course," you said, smiling sweetly. "You're my nakama."

You applied a bit to your own lips before holding it out to Buggy.

"Um," he said. "Can you do it? I'm feelin' kinda shaky."

"Mhm," you hummed, carefully painting it on.

"Good?" he asked.

"Good. I do happen to like your nose, by the way."

"That's nice," he responded. "I like yours."

You grinned.

"I didn't realize you were such a fighter," Buggy said.

"I'm not," you confessed. "I'm terrified. I hate fighting."

"But you punched him."

"Well, he was being mean. And I knew you'd help me."

"How?"

"I don't know, it's what you do."

"Did you mean what you said? About me being your friend?"

"Of course," you said. "You're nearly all I have."

Buggy had never fallen in love with anyone before, if only because most of the time they hated him so openly before he could even consider it. But he thought that maybe tonight, under this sky, he might be in love with you.

The second thing that made him realize how he felt was later that night, as he fell asleep in the bunk under Shanks'.

"How was it?" Shanks asked, sleepily. "...Spending the day with her?"

"Oh," said Buggy. "It was alright."

"Alright?" asked Shanks, propping himself up to look at Buggy. "She's the best, what are you talking about?"

"You think so?"

"Well, yeah, I mean - she's smart, funny, a whole lot nicer than most of us-"

And while Shanks carried on about all these great things about you, two ideas bounced around in Buggy's head - first, how much Shanks was correct about all these great traits of yours, things Buggy had never dared notice before, and second, how much Shanks cared for you. It made him think that maybe there was something special about you, something he hadn't seen before.

And so Buggy told Shanks about your little adventure, and told him about what you'd done for him, and Shanks smiled to himself, and simply said "It's just what she does..."

What could he say? Buggy just loved how you loved.

taglist: @sawendel@twinklesnake@literaturewithliz@sordidmusings@foggyturtleknightangel@toertchen@96jnie@lunanight1021

[mintsuwu]

Midnight Mysteries AU Q&A!

Hello! I´ve been opening asks on Twitter recently and a bunch of people asked stuff about the AU. So I thought it would be fair to share the information here as well to keep everynyan updated! I´ll also take the chance to reply to asks that I have pending in my inbox as well.

Which Midnight Mysteries characters would be magical fellas, like "madoka magica, smile precure"?

Probably Poppy or CraftyCorn, the latter was a unicorn after all 👀

Detective Bubbaphant looks like he needs serious therapy /aff

Oh trust me, HE DEFINITELY DOES.

Every single Critter in that AU needs therapy. That´s partly the reason why Rosie (Bobby) became a psychologist /hj

Can I give Officer Kicks a hug?

Sure you can!! Don´t approach him when he´s angry though.

Do you allow OCs/Fanfics or such for your AU?

Yeah, I absolutely do and it makes me so happy that people would like my AU that much! 😭🙏💖

Does CatNap have a tragic backstory or personal goal or is he bad just for funsies? :00

He sort of has a tragic backstory, not too much, but he definitely has his motives... And even though his intentions could be sort of good, his ways are not the right ones (?

Chat, what happens if Officer Kicks is angry?

Dear user, I pray that you never encounter an angry rooster in your life because one nearly attacked me when I was little and it was... Quite the experience-

That aside though, he has an awful temper and can even get violent at times. Kickin´s character development simply hasn´t kicked in yet.

Are LoolaLamb and CatNap dating or does he just like messing with her?

They have been engaged for years. They married out of convenience and their relationship isn´t fully romantic, but CatNap actually cares about her in a way and is kind of possesive of her.

How did you come up with the Midnight Mysteries AU?

Funny enough, the idea simply came to me one day in which I was listening to the Spy X Family openings, and since my previous hyperfixation was The Great Mouse Detective my mind suddenly thought "What if I made an AU inspired on both things?" That added to the fact that I always kinda imagined Bubba as a detective and knew I had to draw it sometime.

Does CatNap just manipulate or make deals with the Sugary Scoundrels to cause trouble?

Sort of! As those two grew up in the orphanage that he runs, it´s more or less their way to repay him the favor, even though they spend most of their days out on the streets roaming around. But they are also lowkey intimidated by Catnap... Though, Bunzo has it worse with Mistress LongLegs in comparison. PD: The girls, specially CatBee, really admire Loola! And the latter is quite fond of them too.

Will the Midnight Mysteries AU have a similar story to Poppy Playtime, or does it only have the characters in common with the original source?

It will most likely have a slightly different route as PPT´s story is not done yet, but there will be events of the AU based on it! For example, The Hour Of Joy took place as well, but the motives behind it will be different.

What year does the Midnight Mysteries AU take place in?

Historically wise, it would take place around 1930-50, I don´t have an exact year but I know it would hace to end in 5 given how Poppy Playtime takes place in 2005.

What was MM Catnap´s childhood like?

I still have to think better on it, but he was a wondering performer! Perhaps specialized in acribatics.

What sort of things did Huggy and his siblings do before working for the railroad? What were their parents like, were they even around?

Their parents died when they were still yound, so Huggy had to raise his siblings by himself. They were later taken into a circus, but things weren´t very nice in there... After leaving the circus he took part on several crimes, being the brute force of the villanous gang while his siblings were unaware of their brother´s felonies. But when he took part in The Hour Of Joy, Huggy decided to change his ways from then on and did his best to leave the past behind along with his family.

What are Angel´s pronouns in the AU?

He/They!

Is Angel close or affiliated to any of the characters from the AU (DogDay for example?)

Yeah! He is allies with Poppy, Kissy and DogDay. Angel shares a parent-son relationship with the latter as they practically raised the poor dog after he had gone through a negative moment in his life.

Is CraftyCorn in the MM AU, or does she have yet to be revealed?

... She used to be(?

Is Billie actually a boy looking for his dad, or a kid playing innocent to help CatNap?

He´s mainly looking for his dad! But I love that twist ngl...

Did DogDay get that scratch from CatNap or something else?

Yes, he got it from CatNap in a fight.

Is Billy´s mom, by any chance, Mistress Long Legs? Does she know?

Yes, she does know but perhaps she wouldn´t recognize him at first as she didn´t raise him and Billie wouldn´t even know how she looks like. Darwin tried not to tell him much about her and her deeds, or at least he wanted to wait and tell him until he was old enough.

How did Darwin go missing, did Billie witness it?

He got kidnapped, and Billie did witness it. He caught sight of the kidnapper but couldn´t catch up to them when he tried to go after his dad.

What happened to Angel?

Many things...

Does Angel have the ability to die and revive in the past before they died? The Angels from the other universes are able to do that too.

No... Or at least, they haven´t tried out yet, so who knows!

"Traitor"? Did Angel used to work for the Prototype before rebelling against them?

Indeed, Angel betrayed their comrades in a very critical moment and since then they all have been searching for him... CatNap mostly. Which is why they usually remain hidden, outcasted and only keeping contact with selective people.

[m0ntylee]

My thoughts on the Anthony Warlow Jekyll and Hyde Musical songs. (my thought are in scrambles, and I'm 2 drinks in and FEELING IT!) 1. Prologue (I can imagine him saying the lyrics in eerie darkness, all ominous.) 2. I Need to Know (Jekyll is a fucking Disney princess and this is his moment!!!) 3. Facade (I would be scared if the houses were all flashy and swank.) 4. Bitch, Bitch, Bitch (SHUT YALL'S TRAPS!!) 5. The Engagement Party (I'm going to maul Simon Stride.) 6. Possessed (Lisa my beloved. Nothing can make me hate you) 7. Take Me as I Am (RAAAAAAAH LISAA!! 💖) 8. Lisa Carew (Nothing will make me like you Simon Stride) 9. Board of Governors (Ladies and Gentlemen, one at a time, I cant not understand all that shit) 10. Bring on the Men (how about this.... Bring on the Frogs! They are so funny, I swear.) 11. Lucy Meets Jekyll (Lucy serves and eats here.) 12. How Can I Continue On? (Utterson is so dear to me, I'm going to tear up wallpaper) 13. This Is the Moment (Can this not be the moment… Please) 14. Transformation (Now this is the moment at 3:17. Yea fellas, It's okay to be freaky, no judgment here.) 15. Lucy Meets Hyde (Indeed you are the man, Mr. Edward Hyde) 16. Alive (I SAID IT ONCE, I SHALL SAY IT AGAIN! HEADPHONES ARE NOT ENOUGH, I NEED THIS SONG UP MY ASS!!!) 17. Streak of Madness (The madness.. Its fucking streaking) 18. His Work and Nothing More (I don't like when the boyfriends are sad :(( ) 19. Sympathy, Tenderness (I love this song, and it makes me violently sad) 20. Someone Like You (Full of magic, whimsy, and pining) 21. Mass (Magic) 22. Murder, Murder! ("I brought you frankincense." - "and I brought you Mur.. Murder") 23. Letting Go (I love their bond) 24. Reflections ("As Hyde, I care only for myself- And nothing for Jekyll!" this is simply not true, buddy) 25. In His Eyes (Seep down this song makes me feel joyus and sad at the same time and my brain cant choose what it wants to do) 26. The World Has Gone Insane (MY FAVORITE SONG!!) 27. Girls of the Night (Another song that makes me :( i wish nothing but the best for them) 28. No One Knows Who I Am (I know who you are. :(( I want to give her a hug.) 29. It's a Dangerous Game (this duet goes HARD) 30. Once upon a Dream (Lisa) (Sigh...... Jekyll when I get you.) 31. No One Must Ever Know (I'm going to hold your hand while I tell you this.) 32. A New Life (This song made my mother frown and look at me all sad like. Then I told her.) 33. Once Upon a Dream (I think you were afraid to bud) 34. Confrontation ("I'm what you face when you face in the mirror." Mood) 35. The Wedding Reception (I feel a little cartoon cloud forming over my head.)

I don't know why I did this, but AYYYYY must there be a reason!! WELP TIME TO DO SHENANIGANS!!! (sleep)

[nicoline1998enilocin]

I loooooove cats, so my request is for tony and fem reader, they live together (just dating, engaged or married, you decide) and reader is dropping hints that she wants a baby cat and tony pretends that he's not listening, one day he arrive home with a cute baby ginger cat with beautiful green eyes and she's so so so so so happy. She named him tony jr. (of course tony loved the name) and lots of cuddles with tony and their new baby cat please ❤️🐈

Making a new friend

PAIRING | Husband!Tony Stark x Wife!Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.5K

SUMMARY | You've been dropping hints about adding a little feline friend to your family for a long time, but when it seems Tony doesn't pick up on your hints, you drop the subject altogether. That is until he suddenly shows up with a little ginger cat, just like the one you have told him about all this time.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Tony seemingly can't take a hint, tooth-rottingly sweet fluff at the end, implied smut (implied oral F&M receiving), light swearing.

A/N | When I read your request I couldn't stop thinking about puss in boots, so that's exactly what I envisioned the little fella to look like! I hope you enjoy this tooth rotting amount of fluff! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 🩷

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

You, Tony, and all the other Avengers are holding a little afterparty after one of his parties, and you're situated in Tony's lap. ''You know what I think would make our life even better? A ginger cat! They're so adorable and-'' is all you can say before Tony captures your lips with his.

He has heard you talk about that very same cat a million times by now, and he has definitely gotten the hint, but he's just waiting for the right time to surprise you with one.

''Hey!'' you say as you playfully slap his chest because he cut you off mid-sentence.

''What? Am I not allowed to kiss my beautiful wife anymore?'' he says, with a slight offense in his tone.

''Well... you can..., but it's not nice to cut me off mid-sentence,'' you say with a slight pout.

''I'm sorry, Pumpkin, I'll make sure it won't happen again,'' he tells you, and he seals his promise with another kiss which makes you melt into his embrace.

When you pull back, you turn to face Bucky, looking at him with a deadly serious face. ''Bucky? Can I please cuddle with Alpine? Because Tony won't give me a cat - which I think is very unfair!'' you say with a glare as you turn back to Tony.

''Alright, doll. I'll just get her real quick, so please stay where you are so you can cuddle her,'' he says before getting up with a huge smile.

''See? Bucky will let me cuddle with Alpine. But I still don't understand why I can't have my cat, and he does. You're married to me, not him!'' you tell Tony, who is trying his hardest not to laugh.

''For starters, he tried to kill me, and you haven't yet, so that's a good reason I didn't marry him. And secondly, I fell in love with you, Pumpkin, so, of course, I'm married to you,'' he tells you, and you calm a little at those words.

''Okay-'' is all you say before you hear the signature purr of little Miss Alpine.

''Alpine!'' you say, and you jump up, forgetting all about Tony's words.

You take the white fur ball from Bucky's arms and immediately snuggle your face into her. ''Hello, little one; I missed you so much!''

''You should really get her-''

''Shut it, Wilson. Don't give her any more ideas,'' Tony snaps, but you're too busy to notice it, all your attention going to Alpine right now. And if that wasn't enough, you're too drunk to remember this conversation the next day, regardless.

''Good morning, sleepy head,'' Tony whispers in your ear, and you groan.

''How much did I have to drink last night?'' you ask, remembering nothing from the party.

''Enough to be funny, but not enough to be completely blacked out,'' he says as he helps you sit up, the room around you still dark. He hands you a water bottle and some aspirin to help with your pounding headache.

''Please don't tell me I did something embarrassing...'' you sigh before taking it and chugging almost the entire bottle.

''No, you just cuddled with Alpine, is all,'' he says with an adoring smile.

''Oh, speaking of her, when are you finally getting me a cat? I really want one, and I don't think it's fair you let Bucky have her, but I, your actual wife, who you promised to love forever and always, can't have one. Unfair,'' you say as you cross your arms with a slight pout.

''If you don't stop that right now, you will never get one. I had half a mind to get you one soon, but now you're not getting one,'' Tony says.

''You were getting me a cat?!'' you say, and your hangover is completely forgotten as you look at Tony.

''Not anymore,'' he shrugs and gets up from the bed, but you quickly grab his hand, not seeing the smile forming on Tony's lips.

''I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it like that. It's just that I've wanted one for so long...'' you sigh, softly holding his hands as tears form in your eyes.

''How about this, we just pause this conversation for now, and if you're a good girl for me, I will get you something else you really want? And no, not a cat. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment,'' Tony quickly adds.

''Okay, but only if you shower with me and let me suck you off this time. You went down on me last time, so now it's my turn again,'' you say with a glint of mischief in your eyes.

''Deal!'' he says, picking you up and running to the shower with you in his arms as you shriek.

A few months passed, and here you are, still without a cat and still sad about it.

You're in the living room with your book, and Bucky walks in with Alpine in his arms, but when he sees you sitting there, he knows you could use some kitty cuddles.

''I just don't think it's fair...'' you sigh as you scratch Alpine between her ears. She decided that your lap was the perfect place to nap, and you weren't one to complain.

''Maybe Tony just wants to surprise you, doll. Wouldn't be the first time he goes all out for you,'' he says as a reminder of your wedding.

''You're right. But thank you for letting me cuddle with Alpine for now; I'm glad she loves me as much as she does,'' you say with a small smile as she purrs at you.

''No problem, doll. I'm just glad someone finally took the little shit off my hands; she's been keeping me awake all night,'' Bucky sighs.

''Honestly, I need to drop it and accept that I just have to cuddle with him and Miss Alpine over here,'' you say, knowing that letting it go is the best option right now.

But Bucky is right because Tony is planning a surprise, and it just so happens that your birthday is right around the corner, too.

The morning of your birthday is here, and you got woken up in the perfect way by Tony.

His first birthday present would be a couple of orgasms, and he couldn't wait to start. He crawls under the comforter, and it's a good thing you have a habit of sleeping naked.

He woke you up by eating you out first thing in the morning, and you jolt awake with a gasp as you feel his teeth nibbling between your legs, his tongue teasing you before you cum all over his face.

''S-shit, Tony! Yes!'' you scream out as the orgasm washes over you.

When he's done, he crawls back up for a deep kiss.

''Happy birthday, Pumpkin,'' he says with his deep morning voice, and you immediately melt into his embrace.

''Thank you so much, Babe,'' and you let yourself melt into his arms, the two of you cuddling for a little while before your stomach protests and rumbles loudly.

''Time for breakfast!'' he says, picking you up, and he walks out of the bedroom.

''Tony, no! Let me put on some clothes first!'' you say, and you wiggle out of his grasp.

You run back into the bedroom, where you pick out some lacy panties and one of Tony's shirts which is way too big for you, but they're very comfortable.

When you're changed, you walk towards the kitchen with a bit of extra sway in your hips as Tony follows you, practically salivating at the sight.

''Jesus, Pumpkin, you're going to be the death of me,'' he says in your ear as he pulls you closer.

You keep walking with Tony plastered to your back, and when you walk past the living room, you see a lot of decorations, presents, and, of course, all of the Avengers standing there.

''HAPPY BIRTHDAY!'' They all say in unison, and you don't notice Tony walking away to get your present.

Everyone gives you a big hug and extra birthday wishes before you turn around, finally noticing Tony is gone.

''Wait, where is-'' but before you can finish your sentence, you see Tony with the cutest little thing you have ever seen in his arms.

''Happy birthday, Pumpkin,'' he says softly as he walks over to you with a small orange cat in his hands, big green eyes looking up at you as he tries to meow.

''Please tell me I can keep him?'' you say as tears well up in your eyes. This is by far the best birthday you've ever had.

''He's all yours, Pumpkin. So, what will his name be?'' Tony asks.

''Tony Jr., of course!'' you tell him, and everyone laughs at the name.

''Perfect!'' is all he says before he softly kisses you, and you take the cat from his arms.

The rest of the day is spent with Tony Jr. on the couch as you slowly get to know each other, and you've fallen head over heels for the little fur ball.

''Happy birthday to me,'' you whisper, and the smile on your face isn't moving anywhere for the foreseeable future.

[ornii]

My Better Bitter Half, Part 11

Apologies for taking so long but we back baby.

How well do we really know our parents? Take my father. I've always considered him an open book. A man given to misguided schemes and exaggerated displays of affection. But when he was a student, he was accused of a murder that took place right up there. Which leads me to wonder...what really happened that stormy night 32 years ago?

You, your sister Wednesday and, possible crush Enid stood together listening to the drivel that principal Weems was spewing.

“Nevermore was created as a safe haven for our children to learn and to grow, no matter bI realize most of you have heard about the unfortunate incident involving one of our students.bBut I'm happy to report that Eugene is on the mend and is expected to make a full recovery.bSo let's focus on the positive and make this Parents' Weekend our very best yet.” Weems said.

“On the mend?” Wednesday said.

“Try in a coma.” You chime in, Enid turns to Wednesday and you.

“Have you been to see him? You're his friends.”

“I'm the reason he's in the hospital.” Wednesday said, and Enid attempts to console her.

“That is not your fault, okay?” She says, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Well… technically speaking—“ you start, Enid glares at you, convincing you to stop speaking. You close your mouth and shrug.

“Besides, The monster hasn't attacked anyone in the past week. Maybe you finally scared it off.” Enid explains, and you rub your chin, pondering.

“Or maybe it went into hiding to avoid this weekend. Too many people… they want to avoid getting caught.” You say, suddenly your eyes catch a glimpse of black, three figures, Mother, Father, and Pugsley. Wednesday also notices the family arriving.

“I knew I should have worn my plague mask.” Wednesday said.

“Would you look at my family?” Enid looks over to her howling family.

“Talk about toxic pack mentality. I give my mom 30 seconds before her judge-y claws come out. Let's get this over with.” She said, the students agree and go to face their family.

“There he is. Oh, how we missed those devilish eyes and youthful glare.” Morticia, your mother hugged you sternly, and you happily accepted her love, as decrepit as it was..

“Madré!” You say, hugging her. Spotting your father you also reciprocate a hug.

Padre! How are you father?” You say, you see how uncomfortable Wednesday is, obviously human interaction was not her strong suit.

“How are you, my little rain cloud?” Morticia hugs her daughter.

“I thought Thing was filling you in on my every move.” Wednesday says, Morticia and Gomez look surprised that she knows, and you casually chime in.

“You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice?” You smirk, standing next to Wednesday.

“I uncovered your feeble subterfuge almost immediately.”

“We.” you chime in.

“So, how's the little fella doing? Does he still have all his fingers?” Gomez says.

“Relax. I haven't snapped any of his digits. Yet.”

“So tell us everything.”

“Since you've abandoned me here, I've been hunted, haunted... and the target of an attempted murder.”

Much to no one surprised, the Addams Re reveled in it. Morticia and Gomez reach the Principals office with the family. morticia looks at her old yearbook with Principal Weems

“I haven't laid eyes on this in over 20 years. Such good times we had, didn't we, Larissa?”

“Some of us better than others.”

“Oh, don't be so modest. You always filled a room with your presence. Like a stately sequoia tree.”

“And I guess that would make you the lumberjack.”

The two engage in passive aggressive softball, and you couldn’t enjoy it more, sneering.

“There's that biting sense of humor that I always adored. Do you remember when we did that duet for the Solstice Talent Show? Your Judy Garland impression was a dead ringer.” Morticia says.

“Sounds positively suicidal.” Wednesday said.

“I’d love to see it. Im sure Wedensday would agree.” You say, crossing your leg as you wink at Wednesday, who stares daggers at you. Morticia notices something off.

“Oh. My picture's gone.”

“Really? Well, that is odd.” Weems says, feigning innocence.

“May I borrow this for the weekend? That way Gomez and I can take a little walk down memory lane.” She says to her husband, they gawk at each other which only makes Weems more, uncomfortable.

“All right. Let's get down to the matter at hand, shall we? Unfortunately, Wednesday's assimilation has been rocky at best.”

“Because I refuse to embrace the culture of dishonesty and denial permeating this school.

Starting with the monster that killed Rowan and put Eugene in the ICU.” She says, you raise your finger.

“Although I do hear he's on the mend.” You say with a grin, Weems puts on a smile, a fake one.

“We've always encouraged our children to speak their minds.” Gomez said

“Sometimes her sharp tongue and his serrated wit can cut deep.” Gomez says.

“Apparently her therapist feels she hasn't been very open to the process. Their time together has not yielded the results we'd hoped.” Weems explains

“I'm not a lab rat.” Wednesday said in retort.

“I say more like a, Crow. A lab crow.” You say, Your sisters cold glare was in the corner of your eye.

“I believe Wednesday should get the help she deserves.” You say, only adding more fuel to the fire and Weems Agrees.

“Dr. Kinbott and I have spoken, and we both agree it would be most beneficial for you all to attend a family session this weekend.” She said, and the word “family” made you halt.

“Wait.. family?” You ask. “Absolutely not.”

“No.” Wedensday shuts it down quickly, and Weems shakes her head.

“I thought that might be your reaction, but your parents can see the wisdom in it.”

“Um, not to side with Wednesday, but, um, we're only here for the weekend.” Morticia says, and Gomez spoke up.

“Oh, come on. What can it hurt? To be honest, I've always been a big fan of head-shrinking.”

“It's not that kind of head-shrinking, father.” You say, now having the annoyed cadence of your sister.

“Well, that is disappointing. But anything for our kids.” Morticia says, much to the annoyance of the twins.

The Therapy session began as (Y/n), Wednesday and Pugsley sat in the middle with both Morticia and Gomez at sides, Kinbott looks at the full Addams family with gleaming hope.

“So, who wants to start?” She said, it was silent, until she asked again.

“Maybe we can discuss what it's like having Wednesday away from home?” She said, and Pugsley began.

“I mean, for me....it's been hard not having (Y/n) and Wednesday around. I never thought I'd miss being waterboarded and Used as a host for ghosts so much.” Pugsley admits.

“Morticia, Gomez. How have you been coping?” Kinbott asks them.

“It's been torture for us too.”

“Fortunately, my brother Fester's rack fits two people.”

“Nothing like a good stretch to bring out the best in each other.” Morticia says and the two simply cannot get their hands off of Each other.

“Enough!” Wednesday said, actually letting her anger out. And not many times, (Y/n) agrees.

“I think it's high time my parents faced the music. It seems they've been lying to me.

Keeping secrets. Murderous secrets that need to be addressed. Who was Garrett Gates, and why are you accused of murdering him?” Wednesday asks her father, (Y/n) squints his eyes and slowly turns to Gomez.

“…Father?” He asks, which Gomez’s attitude shifts, and Morticia quickly intervenes

“Those charges were dropped. Your father is an innocent man.”

“Local sheriff doesn't seem too convinced.”

“Wednesday, stop. This is neither the time nor the place.”

“Mother, did you know about this?” (Y/n) asks Morticia.

“(Y/n), now isn’t the time for this.” She said.

“Actually, this is exactly the place.” Kinbott chimes in. “These sessions are—“

“Doctor. This does not concern you. And I refuse to debate a decades-old witch-hunt with you right now.” Morticia says.

“Darling, maybe we should...” Gomez says.

“No. This session is over.”

“Have it your way, Mother.” Wednesday stood up and stormed off.

“Wednes... Wednesday?”

“If you refuse to tell me the truth, I'll just have to excavate it myself.” She walks off, and Morticia follows.

“What were you thinking? How could you ambush your father like that? Wednesday.”

“How could I? You insisted I go to this school.

Did you really think I wouldn't find out your secret?”

“You don't know the full story. Your father did nothing wrong.”

“I'll be the judge of that.” Wednesday walks off, (Y/n) exits the building to see his sister leave, and he follows, Wednesday enters the hospital and makes her way to Eugene’s room, he follows silently until she sits at his side.

“I harvested hive number three. The bees miss you, Eugene. We all do.” Wednesday said, (Y/n) smiles and gently taps on the door. Wednesday quickly turns around and sees her brother.

“How long have you been listening?” She said.

“Long enough to see you care.”

“I don’t.”

“Sure you don’t.” (Y/n) walks next to his sister, looking at Eugene. A heated rage begins to overtake him.

“He didn't deserve this. I should be in that bed.” Wednesday says, and (Y/n) shakes his head…

“It isn’t your fault, it’s the monster who did this, and we will find him, I can assure you of that. Now Cmon, we have to get back to Mother and Father, you’d hate to make they worry.” (Y/n) says with sarcasm. Wednesday reluctantly follows. The twins return to eat with their family.

“Mmm. I am famished. You're not hungry, darling?” Morticia says to her daughter, (Y/n) was too busy looking over at Enid.

“My appetite eludes me, Mother.” She replies; Enid is forced to sit with her family,

“So are you going to make me ask?” Her mother says, and Enid assumes she means the Addams boy who’s making dreamy eyes at her.

“Well.. (Y/n) and I haven't defined our relationship yet, even if it is one—“

“I'm not talking about boys. Have you wolfed out yet?” She says, Enid inhaled sharply and out on a smile.

..”No.”

“Well, that is a disappointment.”

“That's me. A huge disappointment…” she says, (Y/n) sees how sad she is, he stands up and walks over, he adjusts his clothes and smiles.

“Excuse me.” He says, he offers a handshake.

“You must be Miss Sinclair.” He says and takes her hand, the woman puts on a smile as Enid was now panicking. Her crush and now her overbearing mother meeting.

“I’m really sorry but I have to speak with Enid, just for a moment.”

“Alright? Don’t try anything—“

“Mom!” Enid says though her teeth, he leads Enid away and he sighs.

“I’m sorry to pull you from your family—“

“No it’s fine, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“You did? What?” (Y/n) asks.

“Well… I, don’t know how to feel after the dance…” she begins.

“You, didn’t have fun?” (Y/n) asks, and Enid shakes her head.

“No, of course I did! It’s just… you’re like my best friend, besides Wednesday, you’re.. more than my best friend.. someone I really care about.

“I’d.. like that.. to be more… I know you’re still heartbroken after Ajax..” (Y/n) begins, Enid watches but slowly peers over his shoulder to see what’s going on.

“Uh.. (Y/n)?”

“And I don’t want to be a replacement I, I want to be more than that, I want to be…”

“(Y/n)… your, dad.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I want you to be my Girl—“

“Your dads getting arrested!” She yells. (Y/n) stops and turns around to see his father being taken away by police.

“Gomez Addams. You're under arrest for the murder of Garrett Gates. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

“Father?”

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed for you.” (Y/n) can only watch as his father is taken away, god only knows what hellscape awaits.

The Twins stood at the blocked off prison visiting room, as their father sits solemnly at the seat. He sees the two stand there.

“My little tormenta, how's your mother?” Gomez asks Wednesday first.

“Devastated. She hates you in orange. I caught her laying a rose on a grave earlier today. The headstone read "Garrett Gates." The very boy you've been arrested for murdering. Care to explain?” She says, and (Y/n) nods.

“It’s best for everyone, father, elaborate.” He said, and Gomez explains.

“Garrett was infatuated with your mother. He mistook her kindness for interest. His infatuation turned into obsession, and he started stalking her.”

“Why didn't you call the police?”

“We tried. But his family were the oldest and richest in Jericho, But No one believed us. Garrett's father, an outcast-hating bigot, was furious that your mother had accused his only son. It all came to a head the night of the Rave'N Dance. Your mother and I stepped out to catch our breath. And that's when I saw him. He had broken into the school. His twisted love for your mother had made him insane. His eyes bore into me, brimming with murderous intent. My life flashed before my eyes. Driven by jealousy and hate, Garrett was When I saw the sword, my survival instinct kicked in. It was a terrible accident.” Gomez says, (Y/n) and Wednesday look at each other. (Y/n) motions his sister over and they speak out of hearing range from their father.

“If I'm being objective, his confession sounds entirely plausible, delivered with the perfect degree of sincerity. Perhaps father is exactly what he says.” Wednesday said.

“I agree; although father has a magnificent poker face, I think he’s telling the truth, but then again, what other rotting skeletons are in his closet, let’s play it safe.” (Y/n) said, they walk back and speak at the same time.

“Thank you for being honest with us.”

“I'm sorry I wasn't a better father.” He says, trying to hold back tears, Wednesday had no emotion, (Y/n) sighed.

“Could we please do without the overt display of emotion?” Wednesday demands, and forms composed himself.

“How many fathers hand their daughter a fencing blade when she's five?”

“Your saber strokes were an essay in perfection.”

“How many fathers would teach their son how to beat a lie detector?”

“It’s all about your heartbeat.”

“Or teach her how to swim with sharks?”

“They found you as cold-blooded as I do.”

“The right way to flay a rattlesnake?”

“They really do taste like chicken when prepared properly.”

“The point is, you taught us how to be strong and independent.” Wednesday begins, and (Y/n) adds in.

“And..How to navigate in a world full of treachery and prejudice. You are the reason we understand how imperative it is that we never lose sight of who we are, no matter what life throws at us.” (Y/n) looks into the eyes of his father, showing he means everything he says.

“So as far as fatherhood goes, I would say you've been more than adequate.” Wednesday said, and Gomez holds back a year.

“Gracias, (Y/n), Wednesday.”

The visitation ends and the two step out of the jail.

“We’ll have to consider all of this…” (Y/n) said, Wednesday also agrees and turns to (Y/n).

“You need to… console, Pugsley.”

“Why me?” (Y/n) asks, and Wednesday stares at him.

“… Yeah, I suppose you trying to comfort him would be… an issue.” (Y/n) chuckles, Wednesday turns her head forward.

“I’m going to.. convince the sheriff to hear me out.”

“As long as you don’t wind up behind bars as well, go for it.” He says, they split up and leave, (Y/n) walked past multiple happy families, (Y/n) approached the lake with a bag in hand, he peers over to see Pugsley sitting down.

“Go away.”

“Pug, You forgot your fishing gear.”

“I know you’re just trying to be nice to make me forget about dad. You’re being honest…It doesn't suit you.”

“That’s… fair. Father packed your favorite bait.” He sits next to him and digs into the bag, and grabs a hand grenade.

“What'll happen to him now?” He asks, and (Y/n) primes a grenade and casually tosses it into the water.

“Well, he's confessed, so there won't be a trial. After he's sentenced, he'll be sent to a state penitentiary, where he'll lose his mind being separated from Mother. Did you know they haven't spent a night apart since they tied the knot?”

“I always thought You’d be the first one in the family behind bars.” Pugsley said, (Y/n) shrugged.

“Funny enough, Wedensday nd I had a bet going… she owes me everything in her will.”

The water explodes deep down, and dead fish float up.

“That's quite a catch. Take the shrapnel out and we have a good feast.”

“I'm gonna miss him, (Y/n).”

“It's not over yet. He's innocent.”

“Well, if anyone can figure out who really committed the crime... it's you and Wednesday, you two work really well together. You have to find out the truth and free Dad.”

Pugsley’s words, so endearing. (Y/n) grits his teeth and nods.

“I will. I will Pugsley…Well, until that happens, we both know Mother will be falling apart.

Which means we have to be strong. And by "we," I mean you. Definitely not me.” He says, the brothers spend more time together before (Y/n) left the forest, as he walks out, his ears pick up the sound of sniffling. He halted as he searched for the origin of the sound, what caught his eye was the bright pink vest. He immediately recognized the color. He peers over to Enid sitting behind a tree, crying.

“Enid?” He asks, she looks up to him, her makeup a mess as it seems she’s been at it for a while, (Y/n) sits next to her.

“Is.. something wrong?” He asks, Enid looks at him like a sad, hurt puppy.

“It’s my mom she, wants to send me to… to..”

“To?”

“Conversion therapy! Like I’m some sort of disappointment!” She looks so hurt, (Y/n), not knowing how to console someone, he sighs and speaks from his black heart.

“Enid… you don’t need to wolf out to be a Weerwolf or, find a mate. Even without those powers, you’re unique, sparkly, bubbly, so kind and.. beautiful.” (Y/n) says, looking at the ground, enid looks up at him, perplexed.

“You.. think so?”

“Of course I do! You’re the only person who makes looking at pink bearable.” He says, his hand gently placed on hers. “If my father taught me anything, it’s to be yourself.. unapologetically, which…” he trails on.

“Ive.. been meaning to say this Enid, but I’ve had no luck, I want to ask.. will you—“

“(Y/n)!”

He hears his voice being called, he very didn’t much want to turn his attention to it, but he did, and he saw his sister approach.

“You have got to be kidding me..” he says, he was dragged away by his sister.

“Wednesday this better be good.”

“Father didn’t Kill Garrett. Neither did mother.”

Wednesday said dropping a bombshell, which raises the eyebrow of the Twin.

“Then.. who did?”

“Himself.”

“Okay, elaborate.”

“Mother told me what truly happened, she was protecting father when he attacked, but Garrett was foaming at the mouth. His eyes didn't look human. Foaming saliva, dilated pupils, mental confusion. What are those all textbook symptoms of?”

“Nightshade poisoning…” (Y/n) gets it, and puts everything together.

“He was dead before Mother stabbed him…”

“There's only one way to find out.” Wednesday said, and (Y/n) frowns, he knows what that means.

Late in the night, at the Grave of Miles Garrett, the twins dig his corpse up, both going to the graveyard as they dig up his casket, Morticia stands above them, watching the two.

“This reminds me of when you got your first grave-digging kit. You were so happy, you nearly smiled.” Morticia said, (Y/n) grumbles.

“Are you sure you don't want to join?” Wednesday asks.

“Uh... mm... No, that's okay, darling. I don't want to spoil your fun.” She says.

“This isn’t fun, mother, Digging up graves is for knaves and psychopaths.” (Y/n) jams into the earth again and feels a loud bang, they stop and uncover the decrepit tomb.

“Moment of truth.” Wednesday and (Y/n) open the tomb, the waft of rubbish bond and decaying flesh hits their nostrils. Wednesday seems to enjoy it. (Y/n) isn’t as enthusiastic as his sister. He looks over the corpse.

“I was right.” She points to the inner pocket, seeing hints of a stained blue liquid.

“Nightshade..” (Y/n) reaches in and grabs a finger, and with a quick and sharp twist, effortlessly removes his finger.

“Alright, now.. all we have to do is—“

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Someone from behind all three of they spoke, the twins popped their hands from the grave to see a police cruiser aiming their headlights at them, the second in command.

“Guess there's gonna be an Addams family reunion in lockup tonight. You're all under arrest.”

(Y/n) is locked up with his father, and Wednesday with her mother. Wednesday stands there, silent, as (Y/n) Taps his foot, fuming. Morticia and Gomez were all over each other

“Get comfortable. You can post bail in the morning.” Sherrif Galpin glares at the twins and leave..

“Not even the long arm of the law could keep us apart.”

“At least we'll have one last night together.

Yes.”

“I've seen jackals with more self-control than you two.” Wednesday glares at her parents lost in love.

“Neither one of you are strong enough to serve hard time. And thanks to me, you won't have to.” (Y/n) stops taping his foot.

“I knew our little jailbird would have an escape plan.”

“It seems Wednesday was correct about Garrett, He died from nightshade poisoning.”

“The remarkable preservation of soft tissue and blue tint confirms it. Which means Garrett was dying...Before you stabbed him.”

“You look even more ravishing as an innocent woman!”

“For once, could you two get off of each other and focus.” Wednesday said, (Y/n) agrees.

“Yes, we need to get this to the mayor, and he will drop all charges, all we need is someone to bring it to them.. someone we trust.. Pugsley.” (Y/n) says

“No.” Wednesday replies flatly.

“.. Lurch?”

“No.”

“…Uncle Fester“

“Absolutely not.” Wednesday said, (Y/n) walks to the edge of the cell.

“Well what do you suggest then? break out of here?” He says, Wednesday walks over and snatched the finger from his hand, and suddenly, she had a vision.,

“Prove to me you're still worthy to be called my son! Kill all those outcasts! Sneak into that dance and spike the punch bowl.” Those words rang through her. She sat up from her episode and her family obviously looks concerned.

“Did you have a vision?”

“What happened?”

“What did you see?”

“The night Garrett died, he had a vial of nightshade poison that broke in his pocket.

He wasn't just trying to kill father. He was going to use the nightshade poison to murder the entire school.” She says, the family look at each other. A sly grin creeps along the face of her brother.

“Oh I’m going to enjoy this…”

“Thank you for seeing us at such short notice, Mr. Mayor.”

The twins stand before the mayor, after being in jail for approximately 4 hours.

“Yes, well, veiled threats have that effect.”

“Then let’s cut to the chase, Garrett Gates wasn't killed by a stab wound.” (Y/n) goes first, then Wednesday places the severed finger on his desk.

“That blue sheen is a telltale sign of nightshade poisoning.” Wednesday said.

“But you already knew that, dont you mayor? Because back when you were sheriff, you were in charge and covered it up.”

“Ansel Gates hated outcasts and Nevermore.

He claimed the land the school was built on was stolen from his family over 200 years ago.

Garrett went there that night to spike the punch and kill all the kids at that dance.” The twins deliver a fairly clear shut argument, and the mayor grumbles, and confesses.

“Ansel confessed the whole thing to me in a drunken stupor. It was his idea.”

“Then Why did you instruct Dr. Anwar to falsify the autopsy report? You knew the truth about how he really died.”

“Listen, my job was to keep the peace. If there had been a trial, Jericho's and Nevermore's reputations would have been trashed.”

“I think the only reputation you were worried about ruining was your own.”

“I remember Garrett bragging to me that his father had the sheriff in his pocket. One year later, you get elected mayor. Hmm. No doubt with the full support of Ansel Gates.”

“I resent your implication.”

“I resent the fact you decided to cover up a potential Genocide of an entire school by a bigoted drug crazed maniac to save the face of this place. The truth stings, doesn’t it mayor?” (Y/n) said with a cold bite.

“What I resent is that you could have prevented Garrett's death if you had done your job when I lodged my complaint about him stalking our Mother.” Wednesday snaps back, The mayor was at a loss, and gave in.

“What do you want?” He asks them.

“All charges dropped. Our father will be released with a full and unequivocal apology from the sheriff's office. Do we have a deal?” (Y/n) asked, and the Mayor gave in.

The twins exit the building as (Y/n) thinks, and decides to speak about it.

“Have you spoken to mother about your visions? You know she could help you. You’d only have to ask Wednesday, we’re family.” He said. Wednesday was silent for a moment, and he continues.

“We’re Navigating this, treacherous shoal of our sibling relationship. But I'm always here for you, Wednesday. Mother, father, Pugsley, unfortunately.” He says.

“I’ll.. consider speaking to her.” Wednesday says, and (Y/n) sighs with relief. Gomez and Morticia We’re Released and All hugged, besides Wedensday.

“Don't crowd me.”

The next and final day, (Y/n) approached Enids family with her Next to him, they stopped and he motions for her to go.

“Stick to yourself, I know you’ve got this.” He says, and Enid walks to her mother, ready to stand her ground. Enid approached and her mother was already hounding her.

“So, it's decided. Six weeks at Camp Howl.

You'll need to pick which activity—“

“No, I don't. Because I'm not going. Not this summer. Not ever. If I'm meant to wolf out, then I'm going to do it on my own timeline and not yours. I hope that one day, you'll finally accept me for who I am.” Enid turns and sees (Y/n) smile, giving her a nod of approval.

(Y/n) returns back to his family as Wednesday was reluctantly being hugged goodbye.

“Don't push it.”

“Well, at least we can't say Parents' Weekend wasn't a nail-biter.” Gomez said.

“I knew you didn't have what it takes to be a murderer.” Wednesday says flatly,

“As much as that stings, gracias, my little death trap.” Gomez gives his daughter a hug, and turns to his son.

“A devious as always, my boy.” Gomez grins and (Y/n) smugly bows.

“Of course, manipulating the mayor into freeing my family a stroke of genius.” (Y/n) replies, and he and his father continue to laugh about it, Wednesday and Morticia watch them, she sighs happily and then goes back to her daughter, and she hands her the yearbook.

“As I leafed through the pages of this yearbook, I was reminded of all the wonderful times I had here. But they were just that. Mine.

You have your own path to blaze. I don't want to be a stranger in your life, darling. If you need me for anything, anything at all, I'm only a crystal ball away.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Wedensday looked blankly at her, but under those eyes was love, the Addams leave, letting the twins look into the book, and at a page of Weems.

“Hm… her Judy Garland costume was phenomenal..”

“…no.”

“No?”

“That isn’t a costume… she looks exactly like her.”

“Wednesday that’s impossible, the only way she could if Weems could shape her body to match hers.”

“…like a shape shifter?” Wedensday asks.

“Most likely, yes.” (Y/n) replies; Wednesday immediately slams the book shut and quickly walks off.

“Wednesday?” (Y/n) asks, and she bursts into Weems office.

“I knew it. I did witness Rowan getting murdered that night.” Wedensday stopped at the foot of the desk.

“Excuse me?” Weems asks.

“When Rowan appeared the next morning, it was you. When you participated in the talent show, not only did you impersonate Judy Garland, you became her. You're a shape-shifter.” Wedensday accuses her, and Weems scoffs at her.

“That's a fascinating theory.”

“I'm curious to find out how Sheriff Galpin feels when I tell him.” Wedensday says threateningly, Weems stands up, slowly showing her towering height.

“You won't tell a soul, Miss Addams. And it wouldn't matter much if you did. Rowan's father already knows what happened, and he fully supports my decision not to involve the authorities.”

“Why would he agree to that?”

“Because Rowan was not in his right mind. His telekinetic abilities were driving him mad and he attempted to murder you twice. His tragic death allowed us to rectify the situation without casting the school or Rowan in an unflattering light.” Weems explains the cover up.

“You and Mayor Walker are the same, aren't you? Burying bodies to cover your dirty secrets.”

“I did what I needed to do to shield this school from controversy and protect its students from harm.”

“Tell that to Eugene. How are you protecting him?”

The two continue to bicker, until (Y/n) bursts in.

“Principal Weems, Wedensday… you have to see this.” He rushes back and the two follow out to the yard as they bear witness. Flames dance in their eyes, seeing words burned into the ground, this was a message, who knows the borrows that are yet to come

[makomafu]

The Creeps guys and the reasons I think they would be cancelled on Twitter

I think he would be the type to troll people on Twitter just for the fun of it you know? Like he'd comment under a Swiftie's tweet "Kanye better" just to piss them off, he doesn't listen to Taylor nor Kanye (he's more of a Weird Al fella) but he knows how butthurt people can get and he likes it. He would also go under bigots tweets and just act silly, if he gets death threats on DMs he's just gonna be like "UwU 👉👈 you wanna kiss me so bad pookie"

He doesn't give a shit, what are you gonna do, dox him? are you gonna dox a 7ft tall serial killer clown from outer space created by God? hm? are you?

Told a guy to kill himself and then went to his house to kill him in person

Ok to be fair the guy commented "Game is game" under a tweet of a kid and Frankie wasn't taking any of that

Sadly doxxing and going to the guys house himself to beat him up isn't exactly legal and that's the one and only reason he ever got cancelled + attention on twitter

before and after that he doesn't really use twitter at all

His handle would be "NY103819481948103" because he wouldn't even bother putting his name (good)

He wouldn't even tweet anything, he just likes cats videos

His one and only tweet is the one under the guy's tweet.

Tweeting an opinion a fandom didn't agree with, it's that simple

Probably "maybe neither Goku or Dragon Ball is that engaging to begin with if all you can say from the show is that Goku beats everyone'

That or people discover he's a fan of Creepypastas which in universe could be compared to those people who are fans of irl serial killers

Either way it's gonna be a fandom twitter being mad at him

I'm not saying it.