#bang her til next week

[lingerieloversworld]

[s-4pphics]

mourn. intro. (e.w.)

INTRO. 

WORD COUNT: 4.1k

WARNINGS: streetracer!ellie, dealer!oc, backstory lemme cook, parental death, mentions of overdoses, funeral, baby ellie :), oc intro… cackles evilly

A/N: last post til eid lol 

pay zakat. feed a family this ramadan. k!ll zios.

SEPTEMBER, 2009

ANGUISH floods Ellie’s chest as she witnesses decorative rosewood being lowered into the sopping dirt. It’s cinematic; watching herself from a bird’s eye view, floating above her own body. Her brain cranks at an alarming rate. Churning in attempts to convince her that she’s not actually here, staring dead at her mother’s casket. The grass sludges beneath her shoes with every unsteady shuffle of her feet. 

There aren't many people around. Three of her mother’s former work friends, a service dog, and the officiant. They’re hardly acknowledging Ellie; no one would be able to stop her from leaping head-first into the ground due to the lowering clouds. Buried and suffocated by grass and mud, a feast for the maggots, but loved eternally. Every cell in Ellie’s body thrums with anxiety. Just when she trusted that her mother’s health was improving, she woke up, shrouded in ice next to a limp body and an empty pill bottle on the nightstand. The same ones her mother took to sleep throughout the night. 

That was three weeks ago. She doesn’t remember calling 911. 

Her best friend — her only friend is gone. And it’s permanent. This isn’t like how her mother used to scavenge the streets until dawn searching for another job before Ellie woke up. She’s not coming back to crawl into their shared, warm bed, sleep for half an hour, then help her get ready for school. No more oatmeal in the mornings. No laughter. No joy. No symmetry. Ellie’s life is forever scattered. Beaten to death until she’s leaking venomous, black blood.

There’s a man that keeps staring at her with pity: familiarity crushes her every time they lock eyes. She kind of remembers him. Somewhat. She almost forgot her shoes before coming here. He seems more upset than her. At least externally; Ellie’s rotting from the inside. 

Her mother’s chamber is completely submerged underneath dirt within the next few hours. The man from earlier is much closer now. 

She jumps when he whispers, 

I owed your mom a favor. 

OCTOBER, 2009

Ellie hates Joel. Hates her mother for leaving her with him. Hates herself for not being able to save her from the claws of addiction. 

Joel’s home is always silent during the day. He gave Ellie the grace of letting her stay home until the Spring, but it’s too quiet. Music never plays and they never talk, and it’s driving her to madness. The silence makes her itch. 

Until the sun sets. 

She already has trouble sleeping. Her insomnia combined with the thunderous clanking that blares from the garage every night is enough to get her sobbing into her pillow until the sun rises the next morning. One night, the noise had gotten so uncontrollably loud that Ellie barged into the garage to shout every curse she recalled her mom screaming into the phone before bedtime.

She didn't expect, however, to see Joel’s legs extended out from underneath her mom’s wrecked ‘57 Chevrolet. Ellie could hear him grunting as cranking and banging of metal took over the space. 

… What are you doing? 

Joel rolls out from beneath the car on a creeper, face confused and smeared with dark sludge. 

Why’re you up? 

It’s loud. She snaps. Why is her car here. 

Joel sighs. Just trying to fix it up. 

For what. Ellie eyes the cracked windshield. She somehow remembers how a rock hit it on the freeway when she was six. Her mom was livid. She can’t drive it anymore. 

Joel’s face twists uncomfortably. It’s almost comical; the seemingly boiling child stands at a whopping four-foot-three with her fists clenched, burning holes through her bright yellow Spongebob pjs. Her glare sharpens when he mumbles, 

Kid… 

So you stole her freaking car? Her eyes swelter, brows hauled downward and hands in fists. He sits up straight, palms up in surrender, wrench in hand. How’d he even get back into their old house?

No, I — He rushes, She asked me to try n’ get it started again. That’s all. I… I shoulda asked you —

Ellie’s not sure why she’s so enraged, but she’s hollering with a pointed index in his direction, berating him, degrading him with sobbed vulgarities. Pushes him hard when he rises to comfort her. Eyes him with so much disdain that he flinches. 

She hates him. She misses her mom. 

The guest room door slammed shut with the click of a lock. She screamed for her mother for hours. Voice shrieking so loud that the neighbors came knocking after the first fifteen minutes. Cops pounded on Joel’s door and proceeded to conduct a wellness check on the household after an hour. 

Their presence made Ellie swallow her scorn. Ellie’s already received a small taste of what it’s like to be in the system. She vowed to never reenter as if her life depended on it. 

NOVEMBER, 2009

Joel made Ellie chocolate chip pancakes for her birthday. 

Breakfast is silent, per usual. Light clinks of utensils on silverware and breathing are the only proof of life in the room. Ellie refuses to touch the squared slices of pineapple. It was her mother’s favorite, despite her complaints of an itchy mouth after every juicy piece. 

Your mom and I… 

Ellie pauses, skeptic eyes connecting with Joel’s. He’s treading light, she can tell. The nerves in his fingers are evident; The sorrow in his eyes suffocates her. Joel’s gaze drops onto his plate at the scrutiny he receives from across the table. 

She’s a good friend of mine, He mutters before his lips turn downward. Was. 

Ellie snorts humorlessly, Way to rub it in. 

Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he sighs, I’m… Sorr—

Were you the one she told? Her tone is sharp. Unforgiving. I heard her on the phone a few days before she did it. 

A storm flurries in the man’s gaze. A familiar one; It’s identical to when she would catch her mother in the middle of night talking to herself with a bottle in her hand. The winds in his pupils take her back to one of the darkest times of Ellie’s life. Maybe they were closer than she assumed. They look identical when they’re guilty. 

I didn’t—

But he did. He’ll never forget being on the other line with Ellie’s mother as she attempted to keep her cries to a minimum. Her croaked wails terrified him. Left wounds in his chest as his heart raced. I can’t do this to her, She’d said, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! … Please… You owe me…

Joel did what he could over the phone. Made promises to her that he couldn’t keep, reaffirmed how much Ellie loved her. How badly she needed her mother, and eventually eased her sobs into pained whimpers. He believed the calmness she exuded prior to ending the call was a sign of understanding of her importance, but it wasn’t. Her mind and body merely accepted her fate. She was dead two mornings after. 

And Ellie was a witness to it all. 

Ellie’s eyes roll and sickness floods her, so she stands, You’re a liar. When you’re ready to tell the truth… You know where I am. She doesn’t bother to push her chair in, clean her dishes, pause at his calls of her name. Her feet stomp through the hallway, marrow searing beneath her skin. The guest room door slams shut and she breaks, guarded by the plainness of the beige walls while tears flow. 

She knows he knew. Why else would her mother leave her with him? 

-

-

- 

When Ellie got up to use the restroom hours later, she nearly tripped over a teddy bear holding a birthday cake. With candles. She’s never received a gift before. 

She doesn’t tell him that she slept for an hour with it hugged to her chest. 

The noises in the garage halt for a week. Ellie still can’t fall asleep. Joel has the same problem, she’s discovered. She finds him sprawled out on the couch one night, burning holes through the roof with a picture frame in his arms. She watches him silently for some time, perched behind the main wall of the hallway. 

Hey. 

Joel’s acknowledgement earns a gasp followed by scuffling, and he snorts. He sits up and sets the dusty frame on the cushion in front of him, noting how awful Ellie is at hiding; It makes him smile. Barely, but he’s endeared; Her entire arm was exposed. He can even see her duck-shaped slippers from where she’s tucked behind the wall. 

Ellie. 

She doesn’t come out, and he sighs. His heart twists painfully when he hears a wet sniffle. He’s up and moving when a guttural sob echoes from the hallway, crouching down in front of Ellie with her knees squeezed into her heaving chest. Joel’s heart cracks at her flushed cheeks drenched in salt. Talking won’t calm her, he knows it, but he’s unsure of what else to do. Ellie… isn’t an emotional kid, but he hushes her, attempts to cradle, apologizes softly. 

But when her wet eyes pinch open, she unravels and falls into him completely. Her arms squeeze around his neck in a deadly grip and she cries and coughs and whines for her mother. Joel holds her just as tightly as she hangs off him. 

We're gonna be fine, sweetheart. He mumbles, and he feels her head shake in denial, tucked in the crook of his neck. His knees wobble, and a soothing hand rises to caress the back of her head; He's never seen a kid this hopeless. It makes him wonder. 

What the hell did she witness in that house? 

Ellie’s always struggled to fall asleep alone. 

Her need to be coddled to dreamland was always a mystery to her mother. Skin-to-skin was a normal trait for infants, toddlers, maybe even a little over, but at age ten? Eleven, and unable to fall asleep without the feeling or knowledge of a loved one present? There was only one time where she recalled her mother carrying her to her own room to rest, but the second the door clicked shut, she was up. Awake. Alert and exposed to harm. Or, at least that’s what she convinced herself. 

She crawled into her mother’s bed minutes later and snoozed throughout the entire night. She didn’t hear the end of it when the sun rose. 

Joel doesn’t berate her, though. 

I can’t sleep by myself, she’d said to him after she calmed from her breakdown in the living room. They’d sat on the couch as he rubbed a comforting palm down her back, her small ones coming up to wipe her wet cheeks. 

How come? 

She scoffed, Scared of the dark, I guess? I dunno. I just can’t. 

Joel hummed in understanding. 

I’m like that, too. Sometimes. 

Ellie snickered wetly, You’re old, though. It’s not the same. 

Joel scoffed and snatched his hand away in mocked hurt. I’m not old! 

The gray hairs say otherwise! 

That night was the first time they ever laughed together. The first time Ellie laughed since her mother’s death, and it carried on until she knocked out beside him on the couch. 

For Joel, though, he couldn’t rest. Not when Ellie favored his daughter that much. Whenever he feels as though he’s progressing, letting go of grief, something life changing — disastrous — forces him right back to square one. Meeting Ellie was one of those moments. He tried to keep his weeping to a minimum as he held her sleeping form, eyes glued to the picture of him hugging his baby after her first soccer win. 

DECEMBER, 2009

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Ellie’s trapped inside the garage with Joel. 

Watching him tweak her mother’s vehicle has aided her raging boredom… To a certain degree. When he starts getting nerdy and raving about car parts, she tunes him out, despite the slight interest she’s taken with underneath the hood. 

The connecting wires, the bolts, the valves and cranks and this manual makes absolutely zero sense—

Can you stop dillydallyin’ around n’ hand me that? 

Ellie’s gobsmacked reading is paused when she passes Joel the manual, dark sludge-covered hands staining the fading paper. She cringes. 

Ellie watches silently as Joel inspects the contents, nodding to himself as his eyes flicker from the vehicle to the booklet, mapping out his next moves of attack. His eyes sparkle and curiosity sparks in her. 

Did you fix it? 

Joel only murmurs to himself, and Ellie’s eyes roll. She inches closer to him and waves a hand in front of his eyes. Hellooo? Is it gonna start? 

… I think so, kid. His head shakes in disbelief, If I can get that transmission replaced, it might be alright. 

Ellie’s brows furrow… What on earth is a transmission? 

I’ve been workin’ on cars for a while. I can tell you now that finding such an essential part for a model this old is gonna be tough. Might cost me an arm n’ leg. 

Ellie shrugs, You’ll figure it out, old man. 

He stares down at her blankly, Gee, thanks. Hand me that wrench, assistant. 

Ellie mocks glee on her skip to the rolling cart, Gosh golly dang, does this mean I’m hired? 

He jokingly snatches the tool from her extended hand. Little bugger. And just like that, you’re not gettin’ paid. How’s it feel to be outta funds? 

WAAAAAAA—

Ellie’s fake wails earn her a deep holler. 

Ellie oversees Joel until the clock strikes twelve, following his line of vision on every rusted compartment of the vehicle. Stood attentively at his side as he pointed out the carefully crafted machinery, listing their parts despite Ellie’s protest of forgetfulness. There are so many names for everything; Building cars seems so complicated, but curiosity sparks in her. She starts to think: maybe cars aren’t so boring. 

Another sleepless night for the both of them; Might as well commit to movie night. Fireworks are still going off in the small neighborhood hours later. The booming colors in the sky makes Joel's teeth grind. Reminds him of the time he took Sarah to Santa Monica Pier. 

Joel? 

Mhm? 

… What favor did you owe my mom? 

Thickness builds in his throat the second Ellie mentions her. He sets the large bowl of chocolate-doused popcorn onto the coffee table, reaching for the remote to turn the movie down. Not off, down. Ellie hates feeling like she’s being scolded. 

Joel doesn’t look at her, but her eyes are glued on the side of his face. 

Umm… He scratches his face, Did your mom ever mention me to you? Ellie denies with a hum. 

Joel’s mind whirs back to the first time he met Anna: sophomore year. He was exhausted, drained, barely making it, but despite being miserable, he still cared deeply for his education. He studied until his eyes burned, jotted down notes until his hand cramped and the librarian was gently urging him to head home. 

She… We were friends in college. He fonds, We met at an ice cream truck. 

Weird. Ellie notes causally, She hates dairy. 

… Yeah. She does. Joel coughs to mask the brokenness in his voice. 

Anna was… a genius, to put it lightly. Academically gifted to an intimidating degree. Her mind was a camera; She’d scan one excerpt from the thickest novel once and still manage to repeat it word for word years later. They had comms together; Her voice sounded like tweeting birds whenever she recited her prepared speech like it was nothing. She was an emotional speaker, entranced everyone in the room, and always ended with a question that forced students and professors to self-reflect. Joel wouldn’t call it a crush… Merely admiration. Envy. He was motivated whenever he left comms. 

He’ll never forget the image of her, sweating and worn, carrying what seemed like a twenty-pound backpack — all stuffed with calculus books — while ordering a can of Sprite from the humming, beaten down truck. Anna didn’t leave after the vendor handed her the soft drink. She simply turned to Joel, inspected him from head to toe, and turned back to the vendor. 

I’ll cover whatever he gets, too. With a thumb aimed at him. He nearly choked. 

A free snow cone couldn’t halt the racing in his chest. 

I know what you are. 

What, He questioned without a stutter. 

You fix cars? Anna quirked a brow at him. Joel’s brows pull downward. How did she know that? He’s fixed one car since he’s been enrolled. His buddy pulled up in front of his dorm asking for a windshield repair. But he shrugs, feigning nonchalance. I dunno. 

The green-eyed girl scoffs and sips from her nearly emptied can. 

You down to replace a tire? Some jackass thought it would be funny to leave a rusty nail in our parking lot. 

Our. She must have roommates… or lives where he does, he thinks. For how much? Not a beat missed. 

Her shoulders lift, I dunno. How much does a tire cost? 

Depends on the model. What d’you drive?

A chevy. Don’t ask the year, I’m not sure. It was a hand-me-down. 

A slight pause between them before Anna suggests with a sigh,

Come see ‘er. 

-

-

-

Thar she blows. 

Joel can’t help but snicker at the woman in front of him, posing right next to her teetered vehicle. It’s quite charismatic; the bright pink bumper stickers, the crisp turquoise paint job, the slight scratch on the trunk. It’s nice. Classically vintage; it suits her. 

A beauty, he notes with his eyes locked onto Anna’s. She gives a hum in agreement. 

Revive her, if ya don’t mind. I’m desperate and can’t sue, so. Joel nods and inspects the damage on her tire. The air is nearly fully gone, and it’s making her drive slump. 

Tire shouldn’t be more than thirty-five… Gonna have to head home for some stuff. Willing to wait an hour? When he turns to her, they’re shoulder to shoulder. 

Anna smirks, Whatever you need, mechanic. 

My dad, Joel corrects, He taught me the basics when I was like… twelve. 

Her voice lowers, Good on him… Earned me a discount, eh? A hand claps down on his shoulder and gives it an encouraging squeeze, and he revs to life. 

He swears the tips of his ears are red hot, Sure… minus that deposit. I needa twenty for emotional damages. 

Fuck off. Her eyes are soft, Might never go to the shop again. You’re officially my car fixer-upper. Fuck these grease-balls n’ their price spikes. 

Joel snorts, You get into that many goddamn accidents? 

She leans in closer, and his throat closes. Slams shut. Turns to dust. 

You’ll find out, mechanic.

That’s why you’re spending so much time on it, Ellie notes at Joel’s retelling before a harsh gasp escapes her. Dude, were you in love with my mom or somethin’?

The man stutters and coughs, No — what? I told you she was a frien—

Ellie snickers with a judgmental point, Yeaaah, yeaaah, I know how these things go. You sucker! 

What the hell — I’m not a sucker… And what things—

Anna and Joeeel sitting in a tree! — 

A pillow smacks Ellie dead in the face, and she topples over in cackles. Joel rubs deep in his temples. Ellie would’ve loved Sarah. Two little bullies who feast on his suffering. 

No more storytelling. I’m going to bed. 

You can’t! Remember? Ellie hollers as tears fall from her eyes. She coos at Joel when he lifts himself off the couch and down the hall, trying to mask his small smile. 

Aww! C’mon, old man, it was a joke! 

I can’t wait for you to go back to school, ya vermin! 

-

-

-

An exhausted Ellie creeps into Joel’s room half an hour later. She sighs in relief when she doesn’t hear snoring. Her mom was the worst when she was tired. She tiptoes across the carpeted floors until she’s in front of the unoccupied side of the mattress, stealthily adjusting the blankets and pulling back the sheets. 

She slowly manages to tuck herself in, fixing the pillows so her head rests on the cold side of the case, exhaling happily at the warmth defrosting her limbs. 

The second she dozed off, she yanked to consciousness by raspy sarcasm. Her eyes roll underneath her lids.

You can’t, either. Joel croaks, Remember?

JANUARY, 2010

Five days until school. Five days until misery. Five days until… strangers. Ellie’s skin crawls whenever she thinks about being an enclosed space with snot-nosed boys and soggy lunches. 

And math… Gross. 

Joel has been more than willing to postpone Ellie’s enrollment whenever she becomes anxious, but she always denies his requests. She’s grown to like Joel, but… he’s not the best teacher, especially social studies. Reviewing one of her old packets nearly gave him an aneurysm. She can’t afford to be homeschooled by him. 

What's been the best distraction from her impending doom? 

Binge watching Cars for the billionth time… And helping Joel patch up that blue Chevy. 

They celebrated their first victory last night for repairs, at least: Joel stuck and twisted the key to start up the engine, and it managed to stutter to life. For less than five seconds. The headlights barely came on and an old Foreigner record broke through the crackly speaker. They rejoiced with the brightest smiles as their hands slapped the dashboard before the vehicle crashed out once more. 

A glimmer of hope. A chance for reconnection. Anna’s sending them messages. The joy in that car shifted to grievance; Joel had to cradle Ellie in his lap as she wept into his shoulder. 

But there’s hope. Ellie wanted nothing more than to get this car working after that. Duty calls, though, and the alarm’s coming from a backpack. 

You got this, kid. Stop stressin’. 

Ellie, without a doubt in her mind, does not got this. 

Screaming children, muddy slides, bloody band aids; they’re all on the other side of that office door. Her worst nightmare has come to life, and she desires nothing more than to hide out in her mom’s car forever. The bag strapped around her shoulders matches the weight of a body. She refuses to let go of Joel’s hand as he speaks with the giggly receptionist who’s too happy to see him (what the hell), but it's okay; he’s holding hers just as tightly. Just as paranoid, apparently. 

She’ll be with Mrs. Lawson for the remainder of the year. Ellie hears the receptionist say over her pounding heart, She’s incredible! I’m sure they'll develop an amazing bond. 

Ellie’s palms are sweltering. Joel must feel it because his thumb nuzzles into her wrist. She’s not built for this. Maybe returning so soon wasn’t a great idea. She can’t do this without her mom. 

Cool backpack, Spidey, is said from behind her, and she stiffens instantly. 

She has a Spider-man backpack. 

Hush. An older man’s voice replies. Sounds strained. Stressed, but he only receives a light snicker from her in return. 

Ellie watches with squinted eyes as a young girl gets escorted towards the front of the office by… the principal, she assumes? He seems fancy in his suit slacks. 

You stay right here until I get your uncle on the phone, The suited man is stern towards the girl, who plops down on one of the waiting chairs. Backpack and all, You can explain to him how you swore at a teacher. I’m not dealing with this from you today. 

M’kay, Mr. Harris. 

Ellie observes the entire scene indiscreetly. Her stares are obvious, glued to the clearly agitated dean who stomps into his office. 

Where’d you get your backpack? 

Ellie’s stunned at your sudden whisper. She shocks herself when she quietly stutters,

Um… Walmart? 

You smile, I like it. I want one. 

Ellie simply nods, but gets paused before she can redirect her attention to Joel. 

Are you new? Your voice grows quieter when you look over your shoulder. Right at the principal’s door. I am, too. I just moved schools. 

This shocks the brunette. The new year just started, and you're already locked in the office with evidently angry staff. 

Yeah… I’m new. 

Something in your grin shifts. Ellie’s nails lock into Joel’s hand. … Interesting— 

Young lady! Did Mr. Harris give you permission to speak? 

You audibly ponder like the attendance clerk asked you to solve a riddle. 

No, ma’am. I apologize. 

Then hush. Not another word. 

Ellie watches you fold your hands politely, twiddling your thumbs. Your eyes don’t leave her backpack. 

Ready, kiddo? 

Her eyes finally reconnect with Joel’s, encouraging and chocolate, and she nods. He guides her to the office exit where her new life resides. Before their departure, she can’t help but take one last respectful glance over her shoulder. She finds you staring with a quirked lip and your wrist outstretched like your shooting spider webs at her. Ellie jerks her head forward and releases the breath she’s been holding. 

What a weirdo. 

tagggiiiiessss :3: @inf3ct3dd @fleshunger @sawaagyapong @elliesbitchh @aouiaa @elliesatchel @williamellieslilho @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @myluvforstarz

[m4k4yl4]

Coffee Boy

Summary: When y/n ends up having to close the cafe for the night, what happens when her cafe crush ends up staying with her in the cafe til the snow calms down.

Content warning: None.

Masterlist

Posted: 12/01/2023

He's always here, same time, same booth every day, yet the most y/n has talked to him was when he asks for an Americano at the cash register and the only thing she can say back is "that'll be $3.15, please move up." or "have a good day, sir!"

His name is Felix, and that's one thing she knows for sure she's the one that writes it on his cup every morning. She started to draw little things next to it. One day, a sun. The next day, a cat is anything she could think of on the top of her head. She enjoyed seeing the smile and nod he would give her after seeing the drawing.

Same routine of this for the past 4 weeks or at past that's how long she had been counting and she still couldn't find the courage to speak to him and whenever she thinks she finally has the chance and confident to do he's left. At the same time, as always gone to who knows back into the cold winter air with an even colder Americano in hand.

Today was like any other 9am y/n had already clocked in standing at the front finger tapping on the table as she looked back and forth from the clock to the front door of the cafe. 'He still hasn't come in yet, wondering what happened,' she thought.

Hours had passed, and he never showed up. 'Guess he's not showing today.' As she's wiping off the last tables, the last worker there withher runs up. "Hey y/n! Can you maybe do the closing shift for me? I have a date with my boyfriend tonight, and I can't miss the reservation."

Y/n blinks for a second, "I- I mean, I guess.." "Really?! Oh, thank you, babes! I own you a big one! Okay, bye!" Y/n stares a little confused at the interaction as her coworker runs off the door. "I guess I'm closing tonight.."

As the night goes on for longer, the snow picks up while y/n is busy making sure everything in the back is good and not put out of place until she hears loud bangs on the entrance of the cafe.

She quickly runs out the of the back, thinking someone was breaking in only to be met with the blonde boy she had been waiting for earlier. She quickly runs to the door, opening it to let him in.

A big gust of wind and snow blows in with him as she shuts the door again, feeling like she had just been stuffed into a freezer. "Jesus, it's freezing out there, I didn't notice it had snowed this much!"

"Yeah, they had been talking on the news about a blizzard coming through. I didn't think it would be this bad.." Felix said as he shook some of the snow off himself. "Oh! You must be freezing, I'll go get you something to warm up with. " He shakes his head, "No, no, you're fine. I'm fine, really!"

She looks at him for a second. "You sure? Your face looks all red. I can get you some hot chocolate, I haven't turned the machine yet." Felix touches his cold face. The red one of his face deepens in embarrassment. "Yeah.. I guess hot chocolate would help a bit. Thank you." She smiles. "No problem!"

As Felix sits down in the booth, he usually sits in y/n walks to the hot chocolate machine freaking out on the inside. 'This is the most I have ever talked to him. What the fuck-'

She comes back with two hot chocolates in hand, setting one in front of him as she sat down across the booth from him. "Didn't know you liked hot chocolate usually you get an Americano and those don't have that much sweetness to them"

He gives a small smirk, "You remembered my order?" She looks up from her drink, eye widen."uhm, I mean, it's just that you come here a lot and never have changed your order, so you know it just kinda stuck, I guess. Sorry if you think it's weird." Felix laughs, "No, it's cute, really. Also, I love those little drawings you put on the cup."

"Really?" She surprised, "Yeah, the little smiley sun was my favorite. Do you draw them on every cup?" She pauses for moments embarrassed to answer his questions, "Hm, no..just yours, really.."

He smiles at her, "Well, thank you for that. Helps me smile in the morning." She smiles back at him face brighter than ever at his compliments. They talk for who knows how long. Y/n looks out the window, seeing the wind and snow calming down.

"Oh, I think it's stopped snowing." Felix looks out the window before checking his phone, "I should probably get going while it's stopped. My roommate is probably wondering where I'm at." He puts on his jacket, y/n following his lead.

"Me too. It's way too late for me to be here. I was supposed to close a while ago." She picks up their empty hot chocolate cups bring them to the kitchen, til an idea came into her head.

"Felix!" She comes out of the kitchen a to go cup in hand, "Oh y/n! I was wondering where you had gone, but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye first." She smiles at him, handing him the cup.

"It's still cold outside, and I didn't see you come in a car or anything, so take this to keep you warm on the home." Felix looks down at the cup wear the names are usually written instead a phone number, y/n phone number, written with the smiley sun he liked so much next to it.

Felix looks back up at a nervous y/n standing in front of him. "Thank you again, y/n. I'll be sure to repay you for this." She smiles at him, "I hope you keep that promise, Felix."

They both leave out together, waving goodbye as they walk opposite ways home, stupid smiles on their faces. As y/n enters her house, she feels the buzz from her phone looking at the notification, making her want to giggle like a little girl.

1 new message

1-×××-×××-××××: y/n? It's Felix! Was wondering if you wanted to go out this weekend. You know, as repayment<3

A/N: YAYYY‼️ ANOTHER FIC‼️

[hypnos333]

Neglectful

Lee know x Reader

Synopsis: Minho has been neglecting you as his girlfriend and now when he wants you, your perspective changes after a couple weeks

For the past month or so Minho was so focused on his dances and career and can understand that but now you feel neglected.

“Baby?” You called out as he was talking to bang chan. he brushed you off making Bang chan look at you in concern before you smiled sadly at him before setting his lunch on his desk before walking away to home to cook dinner.

You made donburi rice bowl with tempura. You set his bowl on the table as you are waiting for your boyfriend to show to dinner.

Unfortunately he never shows, it’s been a couple hours so now you just called it a night. You headed to bed disappointed at the broken promise he had given you yesterday.

In the middle of the night you felt him on the bed as he wrapped his arms around you.

You would’ve just forgot about his actions and move on but he skips dates and anniversary occasionally.

You didn’t know what to do now but to just leave. When he was off to work, You can’t handle the neglect anymore. So you called F/n to help you pack your bags that you need for the next couple weeks til you can get back on your feet.

You packed all your clothes leaving with your friend, you were hesitant to leave Minho but you have to do this for you.

As day turned into night Minho came home smiling with a bouquet of white roses. “Baby! I’m home!” he said cheerfully as he walked through the front door.

He noticed the house is completely quiet, there was no dinner being cooked like usual from you. he put the bouquet on the table before carefully going to they’re bedroom.

“My love, are you here?” But what he saw completely made him pale all your stuff was gone. He checked the closets, the bathroom cabinet and everything else and he found nothing. It’s like you were just imaginary but you sadly were and he had way too much evidence to prove that.

He knew where to go immediately and you should’ve knew better to pick a different place to stay.

Banging could be heard on your friend door as you immediately opened it to get the guy to stop knocking on the door.

When you opened the door your stupidity was noticed, Minho was standing in front of you with a tear stained face. “W-What d-did I do wrong ___? Please I can fix it p-please. I’m sorry, i’m so sorry” he said on his knees.

The Lee know on his knees begging for forgiveness, the idol from stray kids begging for something he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You were gonna fall for it til F/n pulled you behind her standing defensively and protectively.

“Lee know, ___ won’t fall for your bullshit again, I’m sick of her crying over your fucking neglect so goodbye idol” F/n spat out in disgust before pulling you in her home with her. Minho just standed there in shock and hurt.

After that Minho was just a hot mess, he couldn’t focus on anything but you, He needed to fix things. He sent a lot of things to you like roses or chocolates or letters.

The gifts wouldn’t stop and you were starting to miss him but you didn’t want to make the first move either. So you decided to go back home for a couple of days in California, your parents moved there recently and now you wanted to see them.

Once you left Minho sneakily got your stuff back because now he was prepared to get you home.

He promised himself he won’t me neglectful and that’s a promise.

So after a couple of days. You were back to your original home and somehow Minho got security to take you home. F/n was at work doing more shifts out of boredom so you had to face the elephant in the room.

Honestly you needed Minho and he needed, you smiled as you were driven back to your real home.

[cryptids-of-spielzeit]

Sundae

Part 2: One Scoop Chocolate

(A Sun Dog Story)

It had been a week since he had met the kit. Over that week, the two had formed an inseperable bond. They helped each other out, she would scout the area and alert him of any dangers. She was so good he couldn't count how many run ins with the little ones he had already avoided. In return, all she wanted was his love. And food, but mainly love.

"Hey guys, I think our new friend is lightening up a bit!"

That day, it had been awfully quiet. No birds singing, no crickets chirping, not even the buzzing of flies. All the two heard were the shuffling of leaves and twigs as he crawled around. He suddenly stopped, setting the kit down right in front of him. He looked in the distance, almost as though he was in a trance. When all of a sudden, he spoke.

"You know, it's a bit sad. You've been by my side for a bit, possibly will be there til we both reach our end. And I still haven't given you a name."

She tilted her head in confusion.

"Oh, you know, a name....who am I kidding, you wouldn't know, you"re just a pup. Have I even told you my name?"

They both stood in silence before she tilted her head the other way. He chuckled a bit.

"Well then, I'll give each other introductions then. My name is......Dogday. And you...hmm, let's see. You're small, you're red....Bobby? No, no, you aren't a bear, but you've got the smile down. Hmm...I'll have to think about tha-"

BANG!

A gunshot destroyed the silence, the fox and the hound were both startled. But he knew there shouldn't be any gunshots, not in these woods. Signs were plastered everywhere, "NO HUNTING." Someone was out there, and they weren't following the rules.

Suddenly, they heard a rustling in the distance. The little ones, yet again? No, this sounded bigger, faster. Closer. Closer. And there it was, running their way, a young deer, couldn't be anymore than 5 months old. It didn't notice the two canines as it ran past, hiding itself behind a tree, and they followed suit.

Not far behind it was the culprit. Older fellow, very well kept. But he had that look in his eyes, he wasn't all there. He kept giggling, like this was a game, like it was fun. But come on, he couldn't be that depraved, right?

"Come on out, you little coward! If I get you that'll make my count 13, and that's just today's tally!"

(Fun fact: narrators hate it when they're wrong)

Dogday could hear every psychotic thing this man had to say. He was making this forest a waking nightmare for every creature here. And he despised that.

"Stay here, please. I'm about to teach him a lesson."

He crawled as silently as he could, just until he could get right behind the hunter. And then, when the moment was right....YANK! He pulled him to the ground, right at his level. The hunter was shocked, what did that to him? His answer was right there, inches away from his face. He couldn't even muster a scream.

"Leave. Never come back. Or I will do to you...what was done to me."

The hunter sat there in a mixture of fear and confusion, even after the dog had gotten off of his lap. He took one quick glimpse at his torso. The buttons clicked.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

He ran off like a scared animal. Good.

He crawled his way over to the tree to see if the deer was still there. Lo and behold, there it was, laying next to the kit. Seeing as they were all stressed, he knew what he had to do. He took one deep breath in, and one, long, relaxing breath out. It was at that moment, in the vanilla clouds, that he had an epiphany.

"So, it looks like we have another one joining us, huh kid? Well, lucky for the both of you, I've figured out what I'm going to call the both of you!"

He picked up the kit, "I think Strawberry's a good name for you, you sweet, red little thing." She yipped and barked in glee.

He then crawled over to the deer, slowly and gently placing his hand on its head, "As for you, I'm calling you Chocolate." It put its head on his, its tail slowly wagging.

It was getting late, but where they were was comfortable as is. They all huddled together in front of a makeshift fire, and another night went by. A safe night, all together.

"Oh, hey you! Come on, there's always more than enough room for another friend!"

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: And we're back to not having a break! -Danny Words: 1,945 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Young Love' -by Phillip Vo

XL: Please Say Sike Right Now

Everyone knew about Leo's curse by the next morning. Jason told Piper, Nico told Hazel because Hazel already knew half of it, and then Hazel told Frank because Leo knew about his curse anyway, so it was fair. At least they all had the decency to pretend not to know and treated Leo and her like usual, though they'd started to look at Leo like he'd predicted. 

Ara's recovery is tough throughout the day. If she does things that take a lot of effort she feels something like a heart attack and has to sit down for a moment. Next time she runs into Eros, she'll snap his bow in half.

Things are changing, Nico isn't a sweetheart, but now they've been able to train together without any major fights. More so, they can sit and have a civil conversation without having to be half a mile from each other. Nico is polite when Ara asks what to expect from the House of Hades, and he makes a few suggestions for the best way to tackle the mission. Ara listens and together with Hazel, they make a solid plan.

Leo trains hard, but by the third day the weather gets too unpredictable to stay on the upper deck for long periods and he gets worried about Festus malfunctioning like he did during their first quest, so he takes the day to do a full check-up of the ship.

"So much for the big team meeting," he glares at the gray sky, they were supposed to be holding up a session to talk about their new plan, but there was much to be done. "Looks like it's just us again."

Ara can't help but stare while he works, removing the Archimedes sphere and turning off Festus. He gestures at her to get closer and she does, now he's ready to teach her how to use it, the problem is that she isn't paying attention at all.  She is so in love there might as well be little 3D hearts floating around over her head while Leo points at the symbols around the sphere and talks nonstop about their functions.

All her life she'd been stressing over being the nice, adjustable girl so people wouldn't leave her, all to find out she'd never been the problem, she just had to find her people. Percy, Annabeth, Lily, Leo—heck, even Nico has proved to her that she's valued. Hercules's words don't sting as much now. 

All these kids that are used to moving on and never staying in one place, keep coming back to her. Especially Leo Valdez, and man, she's crazy about him. She can now admit that with a smile on her face. "You're so cute," Ara blurts out, leaning against the control board with a smile on her face.

Leo looks back up at her, eyes slightly out of focus after being interrupted mid-sentence. To Ara's surprise, he frowns at her compliment. "You didn't hear a word of what I just said, did you?"

"I'm sorry," she grins and blushes, feeling like her old Aphrodite self for a moment. "I think I'm sick."

"Sick?" Leo touches her forehead. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm lovesick, Admiral," she continues with a silly smirk. "It has no cure."

The boy looks at her in amused defeat. "Who are you? My girlfriend doesn't flirt like this—she rolls her eyes and pretends to be annoyed at my bold moves until she gets tired and kisses me."

"I flirt!"

"No, you don't."

"I flirt all the time."

"This is genuinely the first time in seven months I hear you say something so wack," he laughs. "Sunshine, Eros did a number on you."

"I literally proposed to you like what, a week ago?"

"I proposed first! You can't flirt by reusing my moves!"

"Guys," Jason interrupts their banter. "Hate to interrupt your argument on who's the smoothest, but we want to know how long 'til we reach Epirus."

Leo has the answer at the ready, of course. "By tomorrow morning, we'll reach the western coast of Greece. Then another hour inland, and bang—House of Hades! I'ma get me the T-shirt!"

"Yay," Piper sighs. 

"Pipes, can you tell your sister I'm the one with the rizz in the relationship?"

"I'm not saying that."

"Of course not," Ara nods solemnly. "Because it's a lie."

"Come back when you get a fanclub of nymphs," Leo snorts.

"I have a satyr fanclub," Ara shrugs.

"Satyrs are easy to charm, though—!"

"Guys," Piper interrupts them again. "I've been thinking about the Prophecy of Seven."

They share a look and then Leo turns to Piper. "What about it? Like... good stuff, I hope?"

"In Katoptris," the girl starts explaining, adjusting the cornucopia over her shoulder. "I keep seeing that giant Clytius—the guy who's wrapped in shadows. I know his weakness is fire, but in my visions, he snuffs out flames wherever he goes. Any kind of light just gets sucked into his cloud of darkness."

"Sounds like Nico," Leo jokes. "You think they're related?"

"Hey, man, cut Nico some slack," Jason scowls.

"He's joking," Ara intervenes, giving Jason a look that means 'drop it'. The point is to not bring attention to Nico, and if they try to protect him from random and harmless teasing it's going to look suspicious.

"Piper, what about this giant?" Jason makes a fleeting face of discomfort before looking back at his girlfriend. "What are you thinking?"

Leo and Piper share a look of confusion, not knowing why Ara and Jason suddenly seem slightly upset with each other, they usually get along just great.

"I keep thinking about fire," Piper continues. "How we expect Leo to beat this giant because he's..."

"Hot?" Leo smirks.

"Um, let's go with flammable," Piper raises a brow. "Anyway, that line from the prophecy bothers me: To storm or fire the world must fall."

"Yeah, we know all about it," Leo glances at Ara, but he doesn't say anything. "You're gonna say I'm fire. And Jason here is storm."

"So you're worried one of us will endanger the quest, maybe accidentally destroy the world?"

"No. I think we've been reading that line the wrong way. The world... the Earth. In Greek, the word for that would be..."

"Gaea." Jason tilts his head. "You mean, to storm or fire Gaea must fall?"

Leo tries to look cheery when she mentions it, once again giving Ara a look that it's meant to say 'I told you so'. "You know, I like your version a lot better. 'Cause if Gaea falls to me, Mr. Fire, that is absolutely copacetic."

"Or to me... storm." Jason kisses the girl's cheek. "Piper, that's brilliant! If you're right, this is great news. We just have to figure out which of us destroys Gaea."

"Maybe. But, see, it's storm or fire..." She draws out Katoptris and places it on the console.

Leo hooks his fingers on the waist of Ara's jeans, pulling her away from the blade. He scowls at it the same way Ara does all the time, neither Piper nor Jason notices, but Ara feels a warmth spreading on her chest at the boy's gesture. It's nonsense because the dagger on itself can't hurt her, but still, Leo trying to keep her away from the things that make her uncomfortable is sweet.

"I'm worried about Leo and this fight with Clytius," Piper continues. "That line in the prophecy makes it sound like only one of you can succeed. And if the storm or fire part is connected to the third line, an oath to keep with a final breath..."

Ara feels a weight dropping on her stomach at those words. An oath. She hadn't thought about it nearly as much as she should've. 

"I think my prophecy overlaps with this," she confesses.

"Ara." Leo says warningly.

"No, listen—I'd forgotten that line," she tells him. "That doesn't sound good for us."

"Ara." The boy insists a little more sternly.

"Wait, what?" Jason frowns. "What do you mean? Your prophecy is about Leo's curse?"

"Yes."

"Guys, wait up," Leo stands between her and Jason to stop their exchange, still holding the Archimedes sphere in one hand. "Don't freak out yet."

"Yet? I've been freaking out a whole month!" She exclaims.

"Leo's right, Ara," Jason tries to reason. "We'll drive ourselves crazy overthinking it. You know how prophecies are. Heroes always get in trouble trying to thwart them."

"Yeah," Leo agrees ironically. "We'd hate to get in trouble. We've got it so good right now."

"You know what I mean," Jason insists. "The final breath line might not be connected to the storm and fire part or your prophecy. For all we know, the two of us aren't even storm and fire. Percy can raise hurricanes."

"And I could always set Coach Hedge on fire," Leo suggests. "Then he can be fire."

"I hope I'm wrong," Piper turns to her. "But the whole quest started with us finding Hera and waking that giant king Porphyrion. I have a feeling the war will end with us too. For better or worse."

"Hey," Jason comments, "personally, I like us."

"Agreed," Leo reaches for Ara's hand. "Us is my favorite people."

Ara squeezes Leo's hand and looks at Jason and Piper. She has a weird relationship with this trio, she's protective of them because they were their first quest as a guardian, like an older sister, even though she's the youngest of the group.

She remembers their time bonding inside a sewer, when they went to a cafe all dressed up for different parties, and their fight to free Hera. The first time Ara felt like a real hero, even if she was beaten, cold, and so scared and angry...

She wants to tell them about the prophecy but Leo is stopping her, knowing it's better to have a clear view of things before jumping to conclusions. She's spiraling and thinking Leo will die if he decides to take matters into his own hands, and he doesn't want her to push him out of this again.

The girl shivers just thinking about what would happen to her if Leo gets hurt again. Then she shivers again and realizes the temperature has drastically dropped. The smell of snow increases, the clouds are thickening above them, and the air... It doesn't matter how crazy the weather can be, there is no way a snowstorm is likely to happen in the middle of July, near the coast of Greece.

"Leo," Piper seems to have noticed something's up at the same time as Ara. "Sound the alarm."

Leo tenses and slams his fist on the button, then the charmspeak wears off and he frowns. "Uh, it's disconnected—Festus is shut down. Gimme a minute to get the system back online."

"We don't have a minute! Fires—we need vials of Greek fire. Jason, call the winds. Warm, southerly winds."

Ara looks for Almighty in her pocket and drags her Octopi bag from under the control board, looking for her flintlock. "Wait, what?" Jason watches them in confusion. "Girls, what's wrong?"

"It's her!" Piper seizes her dagger. "She's back! We have to—"

It happens too fast to understand it: The ship freezes in place and ice quickly covers every surface, Jason draws out his sword and he gets turned into an ice statue like Thalia all those months ago.

"Leo! Flames! Now!" Piper calls desperately.

Something tries to snatch the Archimedes sphere out of Leo's hand and he holds onto it tightly, getting lifted along with the object and he starts to struggle in the air. "Hey! Hey! Let me go!" Leo yells at the wind.

"No!" The moment Ara tries to move, her feet get frozen in place.

"Yes, Leo Valdez... I will let you go permanently."

The boy gets thrown out of the ship so violently that all Ara hears is a brief gasp before he's out of sight.

"Hi again, Arae Jackson. We didn't properly introduce last time, daughter of Olympus," Khione speaks to her. "And unfortunately, there is only enough time to kill you now."

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh @ebony-reine-vibes

[perexcri]

best friends, ex-friends til the end (better off as lovers and not the other way around) - [byler week 2023 - day 2]

aka the byler/goncharov au i needed so badly i had to write it myself

title from: bang the doldrums by fall out boy

dedicated to: my commitment to the bit

special thanks to: @cherryisgone for providing me some much-needed poetic Italian for everyone’s favorite Scorcese film

tw: mentions of falling out of a window and blood, guns

The Naples skyline burns with light in the encroaching fog of the night. His back to the stones of the tower, Mike heaves several ragged breaths, and he tries not to think about how steep of a fall it would be down to the town square below. He imagines it’d be quick: his bones would snap, his blood would spill, and there’d be his body, an example laid out on the streets of Naples for all to know the folly that is trying to outrun who you once were.

The sting of vodka on the tips of tongues, frigid nights spent maneuvering through the streets of Leningrad in search of their next hit. Being smuggled onto a rusted plane down to the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea, El nestled beneath his arm, just the clothes on their backs and the jewels on her wrists and neck and ears. Nothing makes sense–it hadn’t for a long time–and for so long, he’d been able to stay just ahead of it.

But now, the entropic forces of this chaotic life are clawing at him, gesturing him down to the street to achieve a silent and still end.

He sighs, and the glowing yellows of the skyline blur in his eyes. He can’t tell if it’s from the mist blowing off of the sea or the tears that threaten to break free from the tight hold he put on them long, long ago.

Behind him, the clock ticks and ticks and ticks–

Until its rhythm breaks: in the breaths between each tick, there’s the clicking of shoes on stones.

The gun digs into Mike’s back, right where it rests against his hip, ready to be drawn by his quick, willowy fingers.

“È questo che sono per te, ora? Soltanto qualcuno che non puoi incontrare alla luce del sole?"

“Quit the front,” Mike growls, just loud enough to be heard over the heartbeats of the clock. It had been years since he’d last spoken Russian, and despite the familiarity that will always be afforded to his native tongue, the consonants sound too harsh and aspirated in his mouth, stretched like taffy under years spent in hiding among the Italian elite.

Will scoffs from where he stands in front of the clock, its second hand ticking menacingly behind him, its gears in an endless whirl behind the clock’s face. The hand moves from behind his legs to crowning his head before he bothers to slip into that shared language of theirs that transcends words and physicality, that which fills the spaces of silence between their every pulse and breath. “And why did you want to meet me here?”

Mind spinning with the centrifuge that always comes from standing on the edge–of one’s life, of destiny, or simply the jut of a clocktower’s window–Mike looks upon Will for what feels like the first time in ages, though it had only been a mere day ago when they’d strolled down the city’s streets under the cloak of night, and he’d held an apple out to his old friend’s paint-stained hands, a silent plea for help in a quest Mike knows he’ll never complete. The pressure of years of hiding from his own desires, being on the run from his own troubled past, and being caught in the twisted web of that sickness which has poisoned all of humanity breaks all at once, and it is all too easy to pull the gun from its holster, click the safety off, and point it at the heart of the only person he’s ever truly loved.

For love is a kind of violence, after all.

“Hm,” Will hums with disinterest. He calmly reaches into his pocket, withdraws a cigarette, and sticks it between his teeth. When he pulls out his lighter, it has just enough time to make the end of the cigarette glow before being snuffed out by the ever-ticking hands of the clock.

Mike’s hand shakes in time with it, always falling into that rhythm of life he’s sought so hard to be free from, caught in an endlessly looping maze he sees no escape from.

Tick. Shake.

A thick puff of smoke falls out of Will’s mouth.

Tick. Shake.

Mike grits his teeth together.

Tick. Shake.

Will cocks an eyebrow at him. Well?

It doesn’t take much for Mike to squeeze the trigger: that indelible pressure which has filled his chest for so long has finally found release, and it presses hard against the metal, letting the gun’s ignition do the work of his anger for him. He can almost feel time stretch thin as the trigger clicks down, as the bullet flies from the gun, as it sails through the tight air between them, aiming straight and true–

Will doesn’t bother to flinch as the bullet lodges straight into the second hand of the clock. Its gears whir on, but its other hands tremble and groan with agony, time itself bleeding from the wound.

Mike swallows against what feels like sharp, jagged pieces of glass in his throat. Despite the clock’s faulty motions now, he can still hear that eternally derisive tick in his mind, a permanent reminder of the life he is chained to.

With a great intake of breath, Will pulls the cigarette away from his lips, lush with warmth from the tobacco and drizzled in moonlight. He shakes out the ashes from its end as he lets another mouthful of smoke dissipate into the night air.

“Time is something you can’t stop, Mike,” he says in a harsh, scraping whisper. He tosses the cigarette onto the ground, stubs it out with his heel, and turns away.

For a single moment, his hand clenches at his side, as if there’s something more he wants to do, reining himself in from saying anything more than the cold, empty phrases they’re now left to exchange and fill with this shared language of theirs.

When he finally leaves, Mike’s eyes drift from the cigarette stub, up to the clock and how its gears grind on, even as its hands remain still.

This time, he lets the tears fall.

- - -

Here’s what Will says in Italian (courtesy of Cherry): Is this what I am to you now? Just someone you can't meet in the sunlight?

[pccyouthleader]

Hedgehog Hodgepodge: A Story of Espionage, Confusion, and an Evil Plan Gone Haywire

Chapter 9: My Fair Sticksy

Shadow loathed the thought of going to see Sticks. She loved to talk, but he didn’t love to listen to her drone on about her inane conspiracy theories. The inner workings of her brain were enough to drive anyone mad. Therefore, Shadow thought it best to look around the woods of her house without disturbing her. Perhaps whatever she had found remained in its original location.

After dodging a cage trap, two pressure-plate crossbow traps, and a concealed pit, Shadow thought he had come upon the strange object in the woods. That is, until he found himself hanging upside-down by the foot. 

“DAMMIT!” he roared, sending flickies fleeing in every direction. He was attempting to undo the tight rope around his ankle when he heard laughter behind a nearby tree.

“That oughta teach you to go sneaking around other people’s houses uninvited!” Sticks declared, then began poking him with a stick. Shadow closed his eyes in frustration. I need information from her, he thought, trying to calm his temper.

“Chaos control!” Shadow disappeared from the snare and reappeared next to Sticks, making her jump. He took the opportunity to snatch the stick and hold it under her chin. She stared wide-eyed at his malicious grin.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him. “Don’t you know the Bartu tribesmen are on the brink of invasion?! And you’ve set off half of my traps!”

Shadow lowered the stick and rolled his eyes. With great restraint, he answered her question. “Aurora told me that you had found something out of the ordinary here in the woods near your home. I’m trying to figure out if the object is related to other strange findings in the village.”

“It’s not so much an object as a substance,” Sticks replied, gesturing for him to follow her. Every so often she’d tell him not to step in a certain area. She stopped at a nearby tree and pointed to its trunk. “See this? The stuff wasn’t here til a week ago!”

Shadow saw what looked like liquid metal smeared on the bark of the tree. It had the same pitch-black tone of the orb and trophy. But this fluid version had a barely visible streak of red in several of the splotches. He knew better than to touch it this time.

Shadow was beginning to formulate a theory in his mind, and he didn’t like it one bit.

—

Back at the lab, Tails had finished Aurora’s communicator. He and CC were now working very closely on the control panel of one of the planes he owned that had long been out of commission.

“Hold these pliers here and shine the flashlight here, please,” Tails said. His tongue touched the edge of his mouth as he worked. 

“Here?” CC asked. She was the best lab assistant anyone could ask for.

“Can you move it a little to the right?” replied Tails, turning a tiny screw as he spoke.

“I shall have to shift my position,” said CC. She carefully moved the pliers and flashlight closer, but the light reflected off the glass and blinded Tails. He dropped the tiny screw and banged his head on a gear shifter, sprawling on the floor of the plane.

“Are you okay?” asked CC. She tried to move over to help him up, but only managed to step on the screwdriver he had dropped. Losing her footing, her instruments went flying and she toppled right onto his chest.

“OOF!” The unexpected turn of events had his head reeling. But he was starting to feel better by the second.

CC looked into his eyes and repeated her question from on top of him. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” Tails mumbled, smiling up at her. His hands moved up her arms and onto her back.

“Oh! I do believe you’ve activated my heat sensors!” she declared.

Tails was about to activate more than that when an urgent ringing emitted from his communicator. He reached into his lab coat pocket and rolled his eyes when he saw the caller’s identity.

“Hey, Shadow,” he said flatly.

“Tails! Have you run any tests on the material used to make that trophy?”

“No,” Tails replied, confused. “I’ve been working on this old plane that-“

“Do it!” Shadow interrupted. The urgency in his voice eased the annoyance Tails felt after being interrupted. 

“Okay, just let me get the control panel back on and-“

“NOW!” said Shadow, barely concealing his own annoyance.

“Geez, Shadow! What’s going on?!”

“I’m not sure yet. And I hope I’m wrong about my suspicion. Let me know as soon as you know anything. I’ll see you at 4:00.” 

“But-“ Tails began, but Shadow had already terminated the call. Tails looked at CC. “But I don’t even know what to look for. It could take days to run a full analysis!” 

“Then I guess we’d better get started,” CC sighed. Hopefully another opportunity for close contact with Tails would manifest sooner rather than later. Maybe at that antique iron show they were taking this very plane to next month! CC was looking forward to being around some old-fashioned metal. She still hadn’t completely gotten over Tails’ obvious need for his programmable coffee maker.

Maybe, she thought, smiling to herself.

[lyubochka]

soft asks by sunnysideanon

i treat ask games like surveys, we all know this.

what song makes you feel better?

who listens to music to feel better?

what’s your feel-good movie?

i dont watch movies qwq im sorry these are rough answers

what’s your favorite candle scent?

i usually like winter fruit smells. so plums, pomegranates, grape, deep and rummy sorta scents. i also like rich sweet ones, resin-y smells. i like a nice light floral mix (iris, jasmine, lily, rose) on cleaning days.

what flower would you like to be given?

lillies. any lillies, but i like madonna lillies

who do you feel most you around?

my partner system, but specifically trent. he is me, and ive never felt it more than when we're together. my brothers are a close second.

say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical)

i have gold rings around my pupils i just noticed the other day. they're gorgeous and i have no idea where i got them from genetically-- maybe my mother. she has gold in her green eyes. i'm glad i got something from her eyes, i'm jealous of them. i have insanely enviable hair. my nails are elegant... also enviable. im wicked talented and sharp, nobody can create the way i can-- BITCH???? ok one of my favorite songs paused randomly that was a whole experience. answer cancelled next question

what color brings you peace?

pale green. this isn't bad, though.

what calms you down?

being alone in my own space. writing music/poetry. having a clean space. music-- hey, i guess that first question was onto smth

what’s something you’re excited for?

grocery run tomorrow, haircut sometime this week. yay.

what’s your ideal date?

taking turns spitting vodka into each others mouths and banging our skulls together til we pass out

how are you?

im fine! a lot of excess energy strangely which is funny b/c i haven't had any caffiene today. that reminds me i need to add energy drinks to my grocery list. eeeeeeee also feeling sappy. in love. so in love hehe

what’s your comfort food?

probably any kind of salad theyre very safe foods

favorite feel-good show?

i dont dream of watching televi-- interview with the vampire.

fairy lights or LED lights?

fairy lights. LED lights make me anxious to look at but now Everyone has them so what do i know

do you still love stuffed animals?

yes.

most important thing in your life?

myself, but secondly, my fiance.

what do you want most in the world right now?

a kiss.

if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be?

don't smoke cigarettes and don't tell that girl everything.

what would you say to your future self?

keep doing it, even if it's uncomfortable. trust your gut, not your body.

favorite piece of clothing?

my black turtleneck or my fur coat.

what’s something you do to de-stress?

bounce and moan on it

what’s the best personal gift someone could give you (playlist, homemade card, etc.)

moneyyyy!!! oh, personal. money from their personal bank account!!! (a card. i collect those.)

what movie would you want to live in?

childs play. id fuck that doll and save the little boy JFIOWEJFE

which character would you want to be?

... oh myself isnt an option ok. then id wanna be in clueless and be cher. id like to be rich

hugs or hand-holding?

hugs. i need my hands for other things but i can be hugged forever

morning, afternoon or night?

ALL OF THEM ALL OF THE TIME

what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)?

horses, dirt roads, hotel rooms, cigarette smoke.

[beemers-hell]

Apologies if anyone already asked but how did Bank get those gnarly face scars? I’d imagine it was from a mission or something of the sort in the heat of combat but I’d rather get confirmation from the maker ((Bonus:How did the others in the team react when she gotten such scars and how long did it take for Bank to get used to it?))

For Bank's regular canon, I drew a comic back in December of 2021 about it!

Read more cause Dad AU explanation gets long and also has some gory descriptions lmao

For Dad AU: She went on a mission all by herself because she'd built up good will with Doc from her performance and ability to not get to banged up while out on contracts with Hank, Deimos, n Sanford, and she'd done a couple solo missions with no issue before! But on this particular instance, the was ambushed by bandits and got her face all fucked up while they held her captive 'til she managed to work up enough strength to escape her binds and booked it the fuck out of there. Also, In this canon she managed to snatch back most of the skin they'd carved off her, cause she knew Doc would probably be able to salvage what was taken off. She didn't manage to nab her eye back though cause like. Fuckers already ate it!

Obviously, upon returning to the fellas all fucked up like that, Doc got to work on fixing her face up as best he could and making sure she was OK everywhere else, Deimos and Sanford stayed by her side to keep her comforted and stop her from freaking out too severely after Doc was done doing what he could to repair her face, and Hank immediately set out for the location she'd been sent out to so he could kill (and do a lil' bit of torturing) that gang of bandits. When he came back he just spent the rest of the day (and next week or so) keeping her safe and sound.

It took Bank a good while to get used to her face after that, of course. She wasn't really concerned over not looking conventially attractive or anything, she doesn't care about that kind of shit, it was more so an issue of looking at her face and feeling this desolate feeling that stemmed form 1) feeling like she failed herself in being able to keep herself safe while carrying out missions by herself and 2) that she had something as important as her sight and parts of her face ripped away from her. It was like, she felt horrible because she felt like her being had been severely damaged in more ways than one.

Obviously though, she was able to come to terms with it, mostly because of the love and support her Dad and uncles showed her through recovery and then on, so she's pretty alright with it now! She'd already been wearing stuff that covered up her face LOOOOOOONG before any of that happened, so it's not like she still covers it up because of that, it's already a comfort thing.

She was a little shy and nervous about letting Shank see her unmasked for a while after they first met, but you know, he obviously didn't make her feel bad when he saw her face for the first time.

So Bank's pretty alright now, despite that shit!

[kiljoius-writes]

Cordial Activities

Ao3 | FFN

Full YOTP Series Found Here

Pairing: Hanabi Hyūga/Konohamaru Sarutobi

Summary: Sometimes, pranks go too far.

April Prompt: Pranks

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: T

During Naruto’s inauguration celebration, Moegi had made a drunken show of calling Udon hideous and Konohamaru stupid. From the moment they had started drinking ‘til the end of the day, she had bemoaned them as stupid, horrible, awful men that hated her and had tried her hardest to rope Hanabi into her man-hating brigade. Udon and Konohamaru had come to a silent agreement that they would have to get her back, but the business of life had swept them away and Moegi and Udon had taken off to the Sand to do seal research.

But now that they were back and all four of them were settled in as sensei to a brand-new class of genin, Konohamaru had decided it was high time to get her back. Usually, he has a good enough prank for Moegi, but his mind is…well, it’s frankly sapped of energy lately.

The best he came up with was sneaking into her house and rearranging her cupboard while she was on a mission. It wasn’t a bad prank. It always set her off, but this just wasn’t satisfying.

Then she kindly brought him tea from a nice, new café.

And it had hot sauce in it.

The next day, Konohamaru woke up with permanent marker on his face. Something no one told him until Hanabi pointed it out to him when he came to visit her.

Udon had drawn a fucking dick on his forehead. And he’d already walked through the village. The whole point of pranking Moegi was to get back at her together. Alas, Udon had been taking her side more and more lately as Konohamaru began spending most of his available free time with Hanabi. A war was on the horizon.

So Hanabi suggested hiding Udon’s glasses and replacing them with some of those cheap, reading-style ones. For the duration of a mission, he had been complaining that his glasses seemed scratched, or that he might need to go update his prescription. He even began to panic that he was developing some sort of eye disease, like glaucoma. He ended up falling flat on his face later on in the mission and the war was certainly brewing.

Later, on a day Hanabi was having a particularly bad time because not only had Wasabi picked a fight with Iwabee while on a mission that she got reprimanded for, Konohamaru had also been sent out on a two-week mission. She didn’t like to admit how much it made her miserable not to see his goofy face every day, and for two weeks no less. On that day, Udon hid inside of the janitor’s closet at the Academy, jumped out, and scared the shit out of Hanabi, and she instinctively closed one of his chakra points. A war had started.

It proceeds innocently enough, with Konohamaru sneaking into Moegi’s apartment to change all of her clocks in the middle of the night. Hanabi and Konohamaru wait with childish excitement outside of her apartment for her alarm to go off and hear her yell in exasperation. They hear banging around in her apartment as she scrambles to get ready, hear her complain, loudly, “Shikadai’s never gonna let me live this one down!” When her door comes flying open, Hanabi and Konohamaru skitter away, giggling.

A few days later, another mostly innocent prank. While on a solo mission on the outskirts of the Land of Fire to investigate some disturbance, she approaches the gates of the Grass. She gives the guards a bright smile and presents her identification. While they look it over for longer than normal, she tries to make casual conversation about the foliage and weather. They eye her suspiciously before giving her the ID back and informing her that traveling clowns do not have clearance to enter at this time. Alarmed, she snatches the ID from their hands and looks at it wide-eyed. An edited photo of her with clown makeup and a big red nose looks back at her, and her title of jōnin is replaced with ‘Hanabi the Hellion’.

The moment she returns, she seeks out Shino and cites an old favor he owes her, and requests some of his kikaichū. He’s reluctant but eventually relents, giving her strict instructions with some chakra pills for the bugs to nibble on. With three containers and three bugs, Hanabi makes her way to Udon’s home. With her byakugan, she confirms no one is inside, and uses the spare key to his apartment he keeps under a gnome by his door to get inside. She puts one container on the highest shelf in a cupboard in the kitchen, another under his bed, and the final one in the air vent of his bathroom. Konohamaru and Hanabi proceed to spend the next several days thoroughly amused by Udon slowly losing his mind, complaining of weird noises in his apartment. It all comes to a head when Udon discovers one of the bugs, takes it to Shino, and both Hanabi and Konohamaru are reprimanded.

The (supposedly) last straw is when Konohamaru brings Hanabi back to his apartment. They had just finished setting up some obstacles for their genin and were getting a little too touchy in public before Hanabi suggested they go somewhere more private. Konohamaru pushes them inside and makes quick work of tugging at her shirt. She berates him like usual but lets him keep at it because she wants the same thing. He guides her to the couch, and she pulls him down with her. Just before he can pull the shirt completely open, he stops and pulls his mouth from hers. Her eyes pop open in irritation to find his looking up curiously.

“What is that?” he mumbles, reaching up above her head. She twists onto her side so she can look above her properly and she frowns at a sealing tag. As soon as he pulls it off, she screeches as the couch suddenly starts growing hair.

“The hell?!” Hanabi shoves him off her and they both go tumbling to the ground.

They pick themselves up and Hanabi inspects the coach while Konohamaru holds the tag up to his face. He grimaces. “Transformation tag…very funny.”

“Gross,” Hanabi says, sticking out her tongue as she pokes at the hairy couch. She can’t tell what kind of hair it is, maybe something like a Poodle’s. Not even something nice, like a Yorkie’s. “How long is it gonna stay like that?”

He doesn’t answer her, instead takes her hand, and pulls her into his bedroom, clearly still antsy to get back to what they were about to do despite the mishap. Honestly, she’s not really in the mood anymore but lets him drag her away anyway. It’s then that she realizes there are tags everywhere.

“Konohamaru!” she gasps as he pushes her backward against the bed, and she shoves her palms into his chest. “Stop!”

“What?” he asks, taking his hands off her with disappointed confusion. She gestures outwards and he finally stops to take in the room, coming to the same realization. She spins around, noting a lack of a sealing tag on his bed, then yanks the blanket off the bed, which in turn tears away another sealing tag, and now his bed is sprouting grass. She hears him groan behind her, “goddamnit, really?”

“Wow,” she breathes, staring at a bed that looks more suited for roses than humans now. “This…this is a lot.”

“Assholes,” he mutters, running his hand over the new grass, “both of them. Giant assholes.”

“They’re on everything, Konohamaru,” she whispers as she hovers her hand over a tag on his lamp next to his alarm clock, also donning a tag. Unable to control her own curiosity, she gently pulls the tag from the lamp and watches as the lampshade slowly morphs into what looks like skin. She clenches her teeth in a grimace, stepping away from it. “Looks like they really put to work what they learned in the Sand, huh?”

“That…” Konohamaru looks over her shoulder, a worried expression on his face. “That’s concerning.”

“I can’t stay here.” Hanabi starts to walk away and Konohamaru sighs in exasperation, lagging behind to lock up his home, though he knows at this point, it’s useless. He’s really starting to regret giving his friends spare keys. In vain, he seals it with some chakra before jogging to catch up with her.

“Where are we going?”

“Your office. We’re devising a plan.”

By the time they get settled in his office, they’ve already nixed several ideas that don’t quite have the bite they want to inflict on their friends. Then Hanabi thinks of the tags in his home and claps her hands together.

“Smoke tag!” she exclaims just as she sits in the chair across from Konohamaru. “I bet I can sneak one on each of their backs, their teams have a mission together tomorrow! Oh, gods it’d be—”

“—In front of their kids?! Yes, yes, yes. Perfect,” he agrees so quickly, she’s surprised. That little mischievous glint in his eye would always be cute to her, as long as it wasn’t directed at her. He reaches out to squeeze her hand, his voice serious, “gods, this is why you are my perfect woman.”

“Oh!” Hanabi giggles, rolling her eyes. “I’m just clever, maybe.”

“Mmm, very,” Konohamaru essentially purrs to her, and it makes her body heat up. Even now, he has her blushing whenever he wants. He crawls on the couch to rest himself on top of her and she shakes her head.

“Pranking gets you all hot and bothered or something?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Dork!” she gasps, laughing as she pushes at his face. He grins.

The next day, as planned, Hanabi skips up to the front gates as Udon and Moegi chat with several of their genin surrounding them. Konohamaru is in the distance, watching with excitement.

“Oh, hey, Hanabi,” Moegi waves with a little smile and Hanabi is having a very difficult time controlling her own mischievous look.

“Hello, hello, teams!” Hanabi lands in front of them, beaming down at the genin.

In unison: “Hi Hanabi-sensei.”

“You look chipper.” Moegi squints at her suspiciously, tilting her head. “Have you…uh, been to Konohamaru’s lately? Like…in the last day?”

“Hmm?” Hanabi questions innocently, looking up as if in thought. “Can’t say I have…”

“No?” Udon’s pitch is a little higher, too. “Maybe you should visit him soon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hanabi responds, clasping her hands together. “Off for a mission?”

“Mhm,” Moegi confirms, relaxing a bit. She looks down at her watch and a look of mild irritation takes over her face. “Chocho is late as always, however…”

“You know how she gets without snacks,” Shikadai calls from the side, “probably best to let her stock up.”

Moegi tilts her head but nods regardless. Udon chuckles, turning to Hanabi. “What’s up, Hanabi?”

“Oh, just saying hello to my friends.” She shrugs just as Chocho appears in the distance bolting toward them.

“Ugh!” Chocho huffs as she stumbles in front of her team. “Sorry, guys. My stupid dad was arguing with me about—”

Inojin interjects, “chubs, no one cares.”

Hanabi frowns at the team as an argument immediately breaks out. She glances up at Moegi, who is rolling her eyes, and grabbing them by the scruffs of their collars. “Anyway! Well, sorry to take off on you, Hanabi, we’re off then!”

“No problem!” Hanabi beams up at them. “Good luck!”

She walks with them to the gates, and just as they make it through the front gates, Hanabi tugs two tags from each of her sleeves into her palms. Then she sets her hands on both Udon and Moegi’s backs, an innocent pat, and whispers.

“Release.”

She immediately leaps back as two plumes of ashy smoke release into the air, covering Moegi and Udon in a thick layer of dust and particles.

“What the—”

“—FUCK!”

Cackling, she bolts away.

“Are we being attacked?”

“Oh no, Udon-sensei!”

“HANABI!”

Several weeks later, they call it quits.

The back and forth was tiring for all four. Their teams were already a lot to handle, and having to constantly worry about one another wasn’t helping with overall stress levels.

Several more weeks later, and Konohamaru and Hanabi finally relax when no more pranks have popped up.

They stand together in a field, chatting while their genin pick around for herbs just on the outskirts of the Leaf.

“Is that Udon?” Konohamaru squints at a figure approaching, and Hanabi activates her byakugan to check. It is Udon, and he’s waving at them enthusiastically.

“Hey you two!” Udon calls, friendly-like. They both wave as he settles next to them. “Early morning gathering mission?”

“Yep,” Hanabi responds with a nod, “where’s your team, Udon?”

“Ah, that’s the thing.” He smirks, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, Denki was having a little trouble perfecting his transformation jutsu. And y’know, Konohamaru, you’ve always been good at it, right, with the sexy jut-“

“Uh, yep!” Konohamaru cuts him off with a high voice, warily looking at their genin. “Yep, I’m pretty good at it. What’s up, you want me to do a lesson with him or somethin’?”

“Or something.” Udon looks mischievous and it unsettles Hanabi. Couldn’t be good. “Give me a little run down on how you do it, Konohamaru.”

Konohamaru shifts slightly, bounces his eyes between the two before shrugging, “I mean, you know all about it, too, Udon.”

“Another perspective is nice, sometimes.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, looking off to their students who are now casting suspicious gazes at the group of sensei. Ever since their prank on Moegi and Udon, all of the genin are hyper-vigilant whenever they come together. “Well, y’know, you visualize it first, right? Get an idea in your head of what you’re gonna transform into, whether it’s a log or another person.”

“Right, right.”

“And that’s the shape your chakra is gonna take. You focus it in your body…like…I dunno, how you do any chakra, and then…” A little plume of vapor encases Konohamaru before dissipating, and in front of them stands an Udon look alike. It makes her frown. She does not want Konohamaru to look like Udon. It’s…unsettling. “And that’s kinda it, isn’t it?”

“I see, I see. Chakra control.” Hanabi eyes Udon warily as he smirks again. “Alright, so kind of like…” Udon widens his stance and wiggles his fingers, pushes up his glasses.

Dog → Boar → Ram

Hanabi wants to die when now, instead of Udon next to her, there is Konohamaru.

Shirtless.

In boxers.

Or maybe not even boxers. It’s just…clouds.

“Dude!” Konohamaru quickly turns back into himself and shoves his own lookalikes shoulder.

“Like this, right?!” Udon, as an incredibly well-defined, nearly nude Konohamaru, asks innocently. Hanabi backs away, her chest feeling like it would explode with her heart thrumming in it.

“Oh my gods!” Wasabi screeched from the sidelines.

“Konohamaru-sensei?!” Sarada cries, shielding her eyes.

“Oh, sick!” Boruto wretches, turning away.

Namida faints.

Sumire freezes, like a deer.

Mitsuki tilts his head curiously.

“Aw, c’mon!” Udon laughs, sidling up closer to Hanabi. “Don’t tell me you don’t like it?”

Hanabi thought it would be her that knocks Udon out cold, but with a puff of smoke, Konohamaru’s fist connects with Udon’s jaw, and he’s on the ground.

“Oh gods!” Hanabi gasps as Udon goes crashing.

“Udon-sensei?!” Sumire is the first to snap to action, bolting towards the unconscious man. Konohamaru rubs his hands over his face.

“Damnit, Udon!” Konohamaru groans as all of the genin girls crowd around the man (save Namida, who is a lump on the ground), poking and prodding at his face.

“This is a mess, Konohamaru,” Hanabi hisses, grabbing Konohamaru’s elbow, “why the hell did you knock him out?!”

“B-Because—” Konohamaru tries, shouldering heaving and slumping, “you were getting—well you know! I hate seeing you upset, and c’mon, isn’t that like a form of sexual harassment or something—”

“I know!” Hanabi growls, glaring. She’s well and truly confused on how to proceed.

This fucking prank war’s gone too far.

With an exaggerated sigh, she stomps up to Udon and gives him a swift kick to the ribs.

“Hanabi-sensei!” Sumire gasps, hand over her mouth as Wasabi groans on behalf of Udon, clutching her side as if she had received the kick herself.

“Udon Ise, wake up!” she demands as if she can summon him awake. Thankfully, he is stirring already. When he pops an eye open, he’s smirking and it sets her blood on fire.

“Gotcha.”

They whirl around to hear cackling in the background. Hanabi activates her byakugan, and yes, now she truly wants to be dead. It’s not just Moegi. It’s Moegi’s team. And Udon’s team.

“I. Am. Going. To. Kill. You.”

Udon hops to his feet and bolts away, Hanabi hot on his trail.

Sarada casts an incredibly disapproving glare at Konohamaru.

“Konohamaru-sensei…really?”

He has no good excuse.

The prank war continues.

“There she is, the little Hyūga brat that destroyed my stand…”

“It wasn’t even my fault…” Hanabi mutters to herself, clutching her shirt tighter to herself as she does her best not to engage in an argument.

The past two weeks have been exhausting. After Udon’s frankly horrible prank on Hanabi and Konohamaru, the village probably suffered the most in terms of collateral damage. They were even getting their younger shinobi involved.

Konohamaru had asked (bribed) Mirai to create a genjutsu that would convince Udon he was on a date with a drop-dead gorgeous dignitary from the Mist, which ended with him thinking he was being led back to her hotel room but ended up being Shino’s home. Then Udon proceeded to gather intel about Hanabi, which led to his discovery of her phobia of rats, and he released a few behind the stand of jewelry she had been perusing, causing her to destroy the entire thing with one hit.

There was the paper-bomb Hanabi had strategically placed on Moegi’s desk disguised as a pen, which she activated just when she was having a meeting with Temari about Shikadai (Temari did not find the prank funny). Moegi managed to convince (bribe) Hanabi’s guard, Tadashi, to ‘run into’ Konohamaru and inform him that Hiashi was urgently requesting he bring him a box of documents from the Hokage’s tower, which Konohamaru, predictably eager to please, offered to take care of for him. Moegi had conveniently placed a box outside of the main door for him, and only when the elder opened it upon delivery did Konohamaru realize, it was full of women’s underwear.

Yes, this prank war had gone far, far enough. Hanabi hadn’t had a decent night's sleep in weeks now, Konohamaru was snapping at his team for small things he’d normally brush off, Moegi was constantly reorganizing her things to ensure nothing was missing or off, Udon’s team were complaining about the lengthy missions he was taking in effort to be away from the village. The village itself is giving them the collective stink eye, and that’s probably why Konohamaru is in front of Hanabi now, informing her that they’re being summoned to the Hokage’s office.

Sure enough, Udon and Moegi are already standing in front of Naruto, who is resting his chin on his clasped hands, looking pissed. Hanabi watches as Konohamaru settles next to Moegi, and she reluctantly takes the other side next to Udon. All four refuse to meet eyes, staring shamefully at the ground like a group of kids ready to receive their punishment.

“See this?”

They all look up as Naruto drops a thick stack of papers on the desk, then pushes his finger on top of them, tapping aggressively.

“Forty complaints in the last two weeks. Forty.” He clicks his tongue as they slowly make eye contact. “All for four of my most respected jōnin senseis. I don’t think I gotta tell you how sad this looks.”

“Sorry, big brother—”

“Ah-ah.” Naruto holds up a hand.

“Sorry, Lord Hokage.”

“Because I am a merciful Hokage,” Naruto continues while clearing his throat, “I’ll let you choose your punishment. Option one, a dock in pay—”

“NO!” Moegi immediately protests, bringing her fists up to her chin with big eyes while Udon nods in eager agreement. “I—no, not that one.”

Naruto sucks in his teeth, then keeps going, “option two, I have you all weed Ms. Ogawa’s garden for a week—”

“Ah, no—”

“I don’t think—”

Hanabi’s cheeks turn pink as both her and Konohamaru interrupt at the same time. Hanabi waves her hands in front of her face. “I cannot let my genin see me doing the thing I give them as punishment.”

“Yeah, c’mon Lord Seventh, that would be…” Konohamaru rubs the back of his neck as he trails off.

“Then you’re left with option three, which is fine by me.” They watch, all four with grimaces, as Naruto reaches into a drawer and pulls out two large, white t-shirts with some sort of writing on them. “Option three, the getting-along shirts!”

The four jōnin look on in abject horror as he lays them out.

“Ah, I remember when Kakashi-sensei put me and Sasuke in one of these,” Naruto comments fondly, patting one that’s been written on with marker.

GETTING ALONG SHIRT

“Except we were, y’know, twelve or somethin’ like that,” he chuckles, looking up at them, “not in our late twenties.”

“Lord Hokage—”

“You chose!” Naruto declares, getting up with the shirts and circling his desk. He pushes Konohamaru and Udon together and yanks one shirt over their heads. The process repeats with Hanabi and Moegi, and then he turns them to face the exit. “Now, I’ve already called your teams to meet in the training grounds for some special training. Don’t keep them waiting!”

All four look at each other with the understanding that they’ve made a grave mistake.

[thestarsmakemedream-art]

Hi!

So I disappeared for a while. (Not like I have many followers who is interested in my shenanigans :D but mainly it's disappointing for myself because I really want to make this learning project to work.)

These last two months... but actually the last three were crazy. I am working in the film industry so production is usually couple of months (max. 2 years) long. And at the end (or 2/3) of the production is super busy. Overtime, even through the night... 4-5 hours of sleeping for weeks.... you get it. This was the case lately. In the beginning of October I managed to do inktober for almost 12 days but then multiple shit happened (mostly work and some other problems) and I was engrossed with them. Which is sad because October is one of my favourite months and I had big plans drawing-wise. Which I failed clearly.

But now. I finished my job one week ago (next starting on this thursday) and spent the last week with recreation (sleeping and reading) and making christmas presents (huge idiocracy but I love to make personal gifts for everyone and I have a huge family and kind a lot of close friends so for example this year I am making presents for 19 people (okay-okay, for some of them I am buying stuff but otherwise diy). Which is.... a clear sign that I am stupid.) Slowly but surely I am making it through the list. I'm gonna share a few of them here too, because only one of my friend is here on tumblr so the exception of her present I will show them. We just need some decent sunlight for photos....

Back to the four project per month system. I am not sure what to do. There was a plan for every week til March so now that I messed up I don't know if I should get back to the plan or like a madman try to do every failed October-November prompt. I am inclined for the latter because even if I like christmas, the autumn vibe is closer to my little soul and I was so hyped for making those drawings. So it's a huge possibility for me to share gothic vibed stuff in the middle of December We will see. I am sure I will finish the abandoned ink learning project and the remaining inktober prompts. I will also participating in two supernatural-themed bangs/fests (@dcwildwestfest and @mitskinaturalbang , also they're looking for artists to join to Mitskinatural, so please participate, it will be fun ;) ). Which is pretty exciting. They have priority. (I am really happy for these bangs.)

Enough of rambling, I just wanted to sit down and make a mental check up after I am not exhausted all the time. (Surprise.) Now I get back to creating stuff.

[sinnaea]

Moonlighting, Chapter 1

Summary In order to save money and move residences to escape harassment from an ex-boyfriend, S.T.A.R.S. officer Jill Valentine moonlights as a pianist at a restaurant. After showing up late to work from a rough night, she finds herself in hot water with her boss; the enigmatic Captain Albert Wesker. However, after an unexpected and fateful encounter at the restaurant, a spark ignites affection for each other and their growing attraction would soon be the answers to both their problems.

This chapter follows Jill in the story and what she has been dealing with in the recent weeks.

Warning(s): None Rating: Mature

AO3 link

BANG BANG BANG!!

The chain lock on Jill’s front door rattled violently from the abrupt pounding. The officer jolted awake and instinctively grabbed her gun from the drawer of her nightstand, body rigid as she rose out of bed and ready to defend herself. Gun pointed directly at her front door with her finger resting against the trigger guard, she cautiously side stepped around the corner of her bed and released a deep and shaky breath through her nose, calming her rapid heartbeat.

It was the dead of the night. The studio apartment glowed a dark blue from the soft illumination of the moonlight through her window blinds. It was silent for a moment aside from the light hum of the refrigerator and water softly dripping from a leaky faucet Jill had been meaning to get repaired. The officer positioned herself next to a support post and waited. It was just wide enough to give herself some cover if the situation needed to come to that. Light from the building’s hallway was beaming through the bottom of the doorway, but two shadowy feet pacing side to side made the light look like it was dancing. Still, she waited.

“Open up, Jill! I know you have him!”

Jill’s shoulders and arms immediately dropped in frustration, but her mental guard was still up and her temper rose.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” she groaned in anger as she headed for the front door and slammed her gun on the kitchen table as she stomped by. She released the deadbolt lock in a quick fury but left the chain untouched.

The man on the other side planted his hand on the door and tried to force it open but the chain held firm, halting the short rattle. His sweaty and rugged face came close to the crack of the door. It looked like he hadn’t shaved in weeks and judging by his breath, he had been drinking. Jill flinched in disgust at the sharp reek of booze that greeted her.

“Where is he, huh?” the man growled through his teeth. His voice was hushed yet seething with hate. “I know you took him. Where is Ruger?”

“Fucking, what?” Jill quietly yelled in confusion. “I don’t have your dog, James. Now, leave me the hell alone!” Before she could slam the door in James’ face, he shoved his foot into the doorway.

“Ruger? Ruger?!” he yelled through the crack.

“Oh, my god! Will you get out of here before you wake everyone up?” Jill hissed at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran away ‘cause you’re such a fucking asshole.”

James slammed his fist against the door with a deep grunt, rattling the chains once again. He pointed a threatening finger at Jill. “Wait ‘til I tell your cop buddies about this. I’ll have you fired and your ass will be on the streets!”

Jill gritted her teeth to control her rising rage. Her lips and nose twitching in suppressed anger. But she placed her hand over her exhausted eyes and wiped down her face to ease the tension in her cheeks and jaw. Fed up and maintaining her composure, she replied, “James. It’s been over a month. You need to stop calling me. You need to stop showing up here in the middle of the night uninvited. You need to move on and leave me alone.”

Knowing this was leading nowhere, the rugged man huffed through his flaring nose, spun away from her in an exasperated grunt and walked down the hallway, only stumbling once or twice.

Jill didn’t even think twice to watch him to make sure he was completely out of sight. She was too tired to care. The door shut and she locked the dead bolt, releasing an exhausted breath of relief and grief. Her head dropped, resting her forehead against the door and holding back tears. She was only anticipating the next time her ex-boyfriend would show up again.

After a brief moment, Jill dragged her feet back toward her bed, lazily picking up her gun along the way. But she made a stop at her desk in the corner of the room. Her eyes glazed over a hanging cork board of notes and a messy stack of paperwork until they met a framed picture of a happily sitting golden retriever. She picked it up with a small smile on her face.

“I wish you were here, buddy,” she quietly said to herself. “You’d be better off without him, too.” She carefully placed the frame back down in the darkness then proceeded to unplug her telephone on her desk. A preemptive move against any unwanted calls in the night.

Jill sat back down on her bed. Thinking about Ruger only made her feel depressed and she couldn’t stand the pain of him being lost. As an elite S.T.A.R.S. officer, Jill hated making mistakes even if it was in her personal life. She thought she had found the right man suited for her and even thought about settling down with him, treating Ruger like he was a baby. And even inquired if Ruger was good with children. But that initial dating phase blinded her. Blinded by James’ inceptive charm and gentleman-like behavior. Until he became too comfortable and Jill noticed his drinking problem along with the anger and increasing verbal abuse. And thinking more about him only made her angry, too.

She dropped her gun back into the nightstand and slammed it closed so hard that her alarm clock tumbled off. Too drained to be bothered, Jill fell back onto the mattress and covered herself with a blanket as the sound of a battery quietly rolled across the hardwood floor.

Jill woke up in a grog. Her eyes were puffy but she was still able to notice the immense brightness of the sun shining through her blinds, assuming it was going to be another hot day.

Knock knock knock. “Jill? Are you in there?” A concerned and familiar voice called to her through the front door.

Suddenly, the officer’s heartbeat bolted to her throat and a rush of anxiety tingled her skull. She kicked off her sheets and scrambled to find the alarm clock on the nightstand. Only to find it on the floor with a missing battery. Her eyes darted toward the unplugged phone on her desk.

“Shit!” she scolded herself as she hurried to the front door in a stumble. She found her partner, Chris, in full uniform standing on the other side. He shook his head in disbelief.

“What the hell, Jill?” he asked incredulously. “You weren’t answering your phone. Did you sleep in again?”

Jill ran her hand through her disheveled hair as Chris bombarded her with more questions. “Just- Just give me a few minutes,” she interrupted and shut the door. She hastily readied herself, struggling to put on her boots as she hopped toward the bathroom. She carelessly splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up and reduce the puffiness in her eyes. Tightening her belt as she made her way back to the front door, she met up with Chris who had just glanced at his watch.

“Okay, let’s go,” she said.

“Your beret?” Chris reminded her.

Jill scoffed in annoyance, reached back into the doorway and grabbed her blue beret off a hanging hook. She and Chris quickly made their way down the hallway as she adjusted her beret, tucking in uncombed hair strands.

“The captain is so pissed right now,” Chris remarked, almost chuckling.

“Shut up, Chris.”

Inside Captain Albert Wesker’s office, Jill stood with a hanging head and clenched fists. She couldn’t find the courage to look at him. Her eyebrows twitched and furrowed as the captain’s words scalded her ears. His body language seemed undisturbed but she felt every stab of his icicle gaze shoot right through her.

“This is the third time this month, Valentine. And over an hour late,” he said with a rising tone.

Finally, she looked at him out of respect for her superior. Calmly seated, his hands were neatly folded on his desk but his mute expression and cold glare told otherwise. Chris was right. The captain was pissed. “Captain, I-” Jill began. “I have no excuse for my behavior. I’m sorry.” She felt pathetic as there was nothing else to say. Or at least nothing she wanted to reveal.

A sharp exhale escaped through Wesker’s nose as he turned his head slightly with a tight lip. The gears turning in his head as his well articulated voice began to lay out. “If I weren’t me, I would temporarily suspend you.” He paused and Jill anticipated his next words in a sweat. “But, because we are who we are and you are one of my best officers, I’m assigning you overtime this evening.”

Jill softly gasped in shock, but it wasn’t because of how easy the captain just let her off. “N-no no no. It can’t be tonight,” Jill blurted out. Then became in disbelief with herself as she inadvertently argued.

Wesker cocked his head. “Excuse me? You would proclaim something better?” The captain was not one to show much emotion but she could feel his temper just below the surface.

“I-I me-meant no disrespect, s-sir,” Jill stammered. She shut her eyes and paused, giving her a moment to breathe and collect her scrambled brain. When she was somewhat calm, she said, “I’ll come in tomorrow. A full shift. And I promise you’ll never have to see me in your office like this again.”

There was a deafening moment of silence as their eyes locked. Jill was internally praying and hoping Wesker would agree.

“You would rather work a full shift on a Saturday than a few hours tonight?” Wesker asked.

The officer stood firm at attention. “Yes, sir.”

Despite Jill’s current stature, Wesker noticed the pleading in her face. It called out to him unexpectedly and for some reason he answered it. A barely audible short grumble vibrated in his throat. “Fine. Now get to work.”

Unknowingly holding her breath, Jill exhaled at ease. “Yes, sir.” She turned away when-

“Wait.”

Jill turned back and saw the captain rise out of his chair. “Yes, sir?”

The captain walked past her and gently shut the door to his office. He stood before her with relaxed shoulders. His perpetual dagger-like gaze and chiseled face somehow softened as he looked down at her.

“Jill. Is everything okay?” he asked, concerned yet warmly. “Everything at home?”

It was strange to hear him address her by first name but oddly comforting. Jill barely knew the captain outside of work but she was touched by his simple inquiry. No one had even asked her that since the break-up, not even Chris. Perhaps it was her emotions getting the better of her as she felt her jaw tremble, stifling tears. She wanted to let everything out and just bury her face in the captain’s hard chest, but she held back.

“Everything is fine, Captain. Thank you,” she replied plainly.

Wesker noticed that subtle yearning in her again, but he opened the door and let her go.

Friday night in Raccoon City was always bustling. The evening air was cool and breezy, providing relief to a rough morning. Waiting patiently on the sidewalk, Jill gripped at her clutch purse as she ignored the citizens passing by, quickly stealing glances at her elegant dress.

The officer was now outfitted in a dark blue, chiffon lace evening gown. A sharp contrast from her daily blues. Her fair skin of one arm and shoulder were exposed to the elements while the other comfortably wrapped in a lace sleeve. The lace on the upper half of the dress were embellished with fine sequins that could be part of the city sky itself. The leg slit revealed shimmering heels at her feet. The overall column accentuated her natural curves and physique. Even the officer’s naturally straight hair was curled loosely at the ends. Jill’s entire getup almost made her seem unrecognizable in the most beautiful way possible.

A yellow taxi pulled up to her and she sat in the backseat, careful not to wrinkle her dress. She was heading north toward the finer part of town. Warming her hands together and stretching her fingers, she gazed up at the high rise apartment buildings touching the night sky. She could only dream of what they looked like inside for now.

Soon, Jill reached her destination. The taxi slowed to a stop in front of a valet and the door was immediately opened for her. She stepped out onto the shiny concrete as the valet slightly bowed and addressed her.

“Good evening and welcome back, Ms. Valentine,” the man politely greeted. He looked young and barely out of his teens. He accompanied her toward the doors of the restaurant.

“Thank you,” Jill replied back with a smile. “I’ll be sure to play extra loud so you and the boys can hear from outside.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that,” the young man chuckled. He opened the door for her and she stepped in.

Jill’s heels clicked on the dark marble floors as she made her way through the restaurant. She passed the wide bar and cocktail lounge near the entrance, waving kindly at the acquainted bartender. The small chitter chatter of the restaurant patrons slowly quieted as Jill walked through the dining area and toward the back, approaching a grand ebony piano. She sat down on the small bench before the ivory keys and a waiter promptly poured her a glass of water and set it on a small round table next to the piano.

Taking in a deep breath and releasing all her tension from the day, Jill fluidly flexed and extended every joint of her fingers then hovered them over the keys. All eyes were on her but her gaze was upon the chandelier and hanging curtains centered on the crepuscular ceiling. This was the only time of her recent weeks that she felt tranquil. Almost as if she had floated into space and was headed toward the stars herself.

Jill began to play.

During that first hour, a curved smile on the corner of her mouth never left her face. Her eyes occasionally closed as she softly played calming tunes from memory. Scattered claps softly vibrated the air after the breezy pieces. Seeing the crowd pleased brought much joy and warmth to Jill’s heart, nearly forgetting why she started this gig in the first place. As patrons began to leave throughout the night, the waiter brought large bills to Jill and placed them in a glass bowl on the small round table. The bowl gradually filled as the night went on.

The evening was coming to an end and it was time for Jill’s final piece. Her very own arrangement she had been forging for months. The room fell silent, knowing her performance was coming to a close soon. She took a sip of water and stretched her fingers one last time and began.

Slow upbeat tunes floated through the air louder than any of the previous songs. It was jazzy, jaunty yet dark with a fun mixture of low and high notes. The permanent smile she bore disappeared as her eyebrows furled in concentration. Her fingers danced across the ivory like a ballet. Her upper body motions were tense yet flowy, projecting all her passion for the song. The patrons were still and silent as they watched and listened on, disregarding their expensive meals and conversations going cold. Even the employees were at a standstill. Time had frozen just for Jill.

Then, she was done.

Every single person in the room applauded her. Elated, a wide smile appeared on her face as she stood and bowed in the limelight. Silently mouthing ‘thank you’ to the patrons. Their claps slowly died down and they returned to their own worlds and Jill to hers. The few hours she spent playing the piano now felt like a fleeting moment of bliss from a dream. A familiar sadness began to creep back as she gathered herself to leave for the night.

The bartender approached her with a tray and a single glass of white wine. “From the gentleman at the bar.”

Surprised and flattered, Jill gingerly picked up the wine glass. At first, her heart dropped as she expected her ex-boyfriend, but then she blushed as the bartender stepped aside. In the distance sitting at the bar, a tall blonde man dressed in a sleek black suit raised his wine glass to her with a smirk.

“Captain Wesker?”

[whoserye]

Somewhere(only we know)

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌. 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: drug use, talk of substance abuse, fluff, Angst, Eddie being Eddie, Jason(he’s his own damn warning), threats, violence.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after a long day, your best friend, Eddie, decides to take you to a house party with Steve being the chaperone. After you lose Eddie somewhere near the drinks, and Steve’s off god knows where, Jason starts making nasty comments about your background history, knowing damn well what he’s doing. Once Eddie finds you, he takes you somewhere to cool off.

Once the store you were working at closed, you start to walk out to your car. You grab your keys out of your bag, turn the car on and absolutely start breaking down while Metallica is playing in the background. You didn’t even notice til after you went quiet that your favorite band started playing the exact song that was playing the night your incident happened.

A few years ago, you had started losing weight which made you question your eating habits. Your mom had decided to take you to the doctor as she was just as concerned as you were, if not, more. The doctor came out of the room to bring you and your mom to the scale that was placed in the hallway. You stepped up onto it as you were directed to do, waiting for the call to step off. Once that was given, you looked at the numbers which were reading “93 LBs”. Your heart broke in the moment and you could’ve sworn you heard the pieces of it shatter onto the floor. You didn’t understand why you were so underweight. Just last week you had weighed 101 LBs, thanks to the fact that you reached past your goal to lose weight.

The doctor had re-assured you everything was alright and it could be due to stress. But what were you stressed about? I mean, everything was going great for you. You had moved out of your dads abusive household and started hanging out with friends more, You got your job at family video, you even had a fling for a few weeks. Why were you stressed?

The next year after that, a girl at school had threatened to ‘beat your ass’ all because you told her that you wanted to be left alone after a fight with your mom. She had apperently took your silence as an invitation to go ahead and pull your hair back, along with the rest of you body, onto the floor so she could have a chance to get on-top of you and have her violent way with you. Something inside of your tiny, foggy brain had snapped and made you turn her over and start socking punches at her again, again, and again til you saw her as she started weezing so she could breath, as soon as she did, she coughed up blood, technically a puddle of blood. The security had to be called into the lounge area just so they could rip you off of her. The next few months settled in therapy and a psyche hospital for two weeks just so you could figure out what was wrong with you.

Once you started to drive off, wiping your tears, you screamed to your favorite metal classics and banged on the steering wheel as you sang your heart out. Once you had reached your final destination, you weren’t 100% that your best friend would be home, since he did have other “businesses” to attend to. You parked your beautiful VW van in the driveway, turned the vehicle off, and stepped out of your door, slamming it behind you after you had gotten your movie finds from your job, out of the back seat. You stormed to the front step of your really nice home, unlocked it and stepped inside before you had set your keys to be on the kitchen counter. “Eddie?” You shouted throughout the house, hoping he was there. As soon as you said his name, a head full of brunette curls had popped out from behind the bedroom doorway. You walked slowly to him just to give him a hug.

“What’s wrong, princess?” He whispered as he softly lifted your chin up for his eyes to meet yours. You smiled softly.

“Long day.” You gave him another soft but fake smile.

“Mmmm wanna go to this thing that Robin has NOT stopped talking about for about..” he paused to think “five days straight.”

“What is it?” You said, sitting yourself up and out of his arms as you wandered to the kitchen to open a coke. “Is it one of Tina’s stupid house parties where everyone gets stupid-black-out drunk and ends up not remembering whose bed they wound up in?” You said with slight dread.

He slightly nodded still looking at you. “I mean, I’ll be there as well as big boy Steve,” he grinned.

You shook your head. “I do not wanna end up on the wet grass in the morning, I’m good, Ed’s.”

“Fine, how about if everything gets too overwhelming, we’ll just come back here and binge a terrible horror-thriller.” You grinned at the idea.

“Only if I get to pick.” You said laughing a bit.

He lowered his head down and groaned softly. “Fine you get first pick-“ he was interrupted with a knock at the door which was your cue to go answer.

“Coming!” You smiled slightly knowing who it was.

You opened the door to a smiling boy, one of yours. It was none other than the only Steve Harrington you knew. “You coming to the party with Eddie and I? Or did he not tell you?” He said amused at first but then slight disappointment crept onto his face.

You pulled him in to your house gently, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the kitchen where you previously were. You picked your coke up to open it and started smiling as you turned to him. “Well..?” He said waiting for an answer.

“Go ask Eddie, he’ll tell you.” You smirked not wanting to be obvious.

Eddie walked out of his room, wearing a black Rolling Stones shirt which was tucked into his normal everyday black jeans, with his hair up into a slightly cute man-bun. “Ask Eddie what, princess?” He said with a Bobby pin in his mouth as he was finishing pinning his long sideburns to the side of his hair.

You smirked again, wanting to kiss him but you weren’t going to considering the fact that you were just friends, nothing more. “Stevie here was wanting to know if I was coming to the party tonight or not.” You said looking at Steve then taking a sip of your drink.

Eddie finished his hair and walked over to the two of you. “Oh, yeah, I bribed her with a stupid thriller that she apparently gets to pick.” He said slightly grinning.

Steve was shooing you away with his hands, smirking. “Then hurry up, go! The place will start getting ready to be full by the time we get there if you keep stalling.” He said resting his hands back down as soon as you rushed upstairs to get ready.

———————————

As shaky as you were when entering the house. You still managed to find yourself a punch bowl that you were more than sure was spiked with some terrible tasting whiskey or something you knew would be strong enough to knock some of the heavy-weights here, out. You started to search for the boys again but they were already gone, leaving your side bare.

You were leaning on the brick wall of the hallway, with a self made drink in your hand that was put together using random fruity alcohol beverages in the fridge.

“Hey, cutie.” A familiar voice had called you but you weren’t really noticing nor paying attention since you were spaced out. “Hello? Y/N!” A pair of fingers snapped infront of you, as you waited for your eyes to focus on the face that had left your stomach twisting.

“Hey, Jason.” You said un-friendly, in the sense that you just wanted to get the boys and leave already.

“What’s the attitude for, sweetheart?” He cooed.

��Please don’t call me that, Jason.” You placed your hand on your hip, slightly picking at the itching fabric on your gothic styled party dress.

He scoffs at you, dropping his drink on the counter, and placing his hand firmly between your chin so his fingers are squishing one cheek close to the other. “What the hell is your problem, slut?!” He said raising his voice.

“I told you to stop calling me names. It makes me uncomfortable.” You said snatching his hand away from your face.

“Well fine, then. Stay a stupid, crazy-ass whore who just gives every guy she sees blue balls.” He scoffed and slapped you firmly. “You won’t get anywhere with that stupid washed-out pussy of yours if you keep whoring around.” He spat. You pushed him off of you and went to walk away until he grabbed your wrist to sling you back and onto the ground, as you got back up, you pushed him to the ground and started throwing punches flat into his face until a familiar touch grasped your arm firmly and pulled you outside, to where there were still a bunch of people, but they were farther in the distance.

Eddie softly grabbed your cheeks, searching for a single scratch until he found one. He then grabs a baby wipe out of your bag, and starts to wipe your smeared makeup off just so it still looks clean. “What happened, baby?” He says softly trying not to trigger anything that’s already been covered.

“Nothing.” You answer, not really trying to give him any ideas as to why you punched Jason so hard that he probably didn’t know where he was.

“Don’t give me that dumb bullshit excuse, Y/N.” He says seriously but still soft. He balls the used baby wipes up into a tiny compressed ball and throws them into the trash can.

“He started talking about me, calling me names, saying I have a worn out pussy and I won’t get no-where if im ‘whoring’ around. He slapped me so I tried to leave and push him off of me, he pulled me back and on to the ground, so I just black out kind of.” You explain in a sad voice.

“When he pulled you back, you must’ve hit the counter or something, you have a bad scratch.” He says as he tries to work his way around it after grabbing a new wipe. “Other from being hurt, are you okay?”

You shake your head softly and hug his shoulders tightly, crying into his chest, as he rubs your back and places his chin onto your shoulder.

He pulls you closer to him, as you wrap your legs around him and he stands up, grabbing your stuff and looking for Steve. He has one hand on your lower back, keeping you up, and the other carrying your bag.

Steve’s spots the two in the crowd and rushes towards them, shoving through people.

Once he gets to the two, he carefully asks what happened. “I’ll explain in the car but for now, let’s get going.” Eddie sighs softly. Steve nods and goes to grab his drink to dump it out and wave bye to his lady friend of the night. Eddie sets you down near the pool, on one of the chairs. He gets out this ‘calming remedy’ of his which is just basic weed. He rolls the joint for you, and passes it to you, while your still sobbing.

Once you put the blunt in between your lips, you take a long inhale then take the blunt out of your mouth, and exhale, releasing a lot more smoke than you knew your body was capabale of. “She did this too.” You look disappointed but in reality, you were just scared.

“Huh?” He looked over to you, a bit confused.

“My mom. She smoked too.” You sighed softly, looking at him. “She had problems with addiction and smoking was the only thing in her life that basically took her from that.”

Eddie nodded as he understood where you were coming from.

“Growing up, she would always take me to smoke stores, to pick out what kind of shit I would get to smoke when I got to the age, now I buy the same stuff constantly” you smiled slightly.

“Wayne taught me how to roll, smoke, grind, everything.” Eddie smiled as well. You passed the joint back to him and it would continue like that until you all got back home, where you were picking out to watch Carrie for the night.

Notes: OK SO THAT WAS MY FIRST FF EVER AND IM SCREAMING CAUSE I ACTUALLY LIKES IT??

ANYWAYS IF ANYONES FOLLOWING ME(not likely) SOMEONE PLEASE GIMME REQUESTS I GUESS IDK LOL

[luckidae]

Coming Home

It's feels strange to think about it but I think I have only prayed twice in my life, now and a while ago. I think talking about to two in order would be most fitting. I can't tell you everything it's hard to sift but it started in 2030 when the Excelsior Climbing mk. 4 was built and chartered for some billionaire who I can't remember.

It was a small crew we were suppose to mine and astroid passing close to earth and return back with some Cobalt and other rare minerals we needed for said billionaires product, we will just call the balding bastard Billy since that's the only thing he has. We had me, a nice Ukrainian pilot who made her name in the war, a Taiwanese geologist, and Boris the mechanic.

No one was terribly chatty besides Boris who made sure we were all aware of what he was doing at all times. I think that's why I remember his name, I don't remember his face but his name. "Boris reporting maintenance on ventilator 3 complete 0300", "Boris reporting attention to engine room for routine checks" I thought it was trite at the time but now it's comforting to know I have one name to talk to.

I think I will call the pilot just pilot she never really spoke. I remember her accent was thick, and I think she had blonde hair. She spoke during the compatibility meeting with an introduction and qualification speech. I remember her eyes were that blue that looked through you, that felt like they saw behind you and devoured your entire self in their focus. Other than her scream in the final moments I think her eyes have stuck with me the most honestly.

The geologist wasn't actually at the initial meeting if I remember right, and I think I will call them geo. I only remember their scars they had them on their neck, face and arms and they would tell a story about anyone you asked about, I can't even remember their voice just the stories and how excited they were to talk about them. I miss the glow their eyes would get talking about rocks that almost killed them for a sample and the rush of it. I never took geology for an active science but then again I was just logistics.

My only job was to make sure we got enough material to make the trip worth the cost and that we had notes of the details of our trip, it was suppose to be a week, two days there and 3 days back. The remaining two were suppose to be for drilling and just Incase something came up.

The time frame is why we missed the landing, the vacuum of the astroid was too much. It felt like it was breathing us in like a little kid sucking up some berries. Little snowberry being eaten by an astral body. I could barley tell time honestly in the void if it were for all the battery powered clocks there wouldn't be a way to tell at all. Til the scream and the shaking "we're hitting" and a screech of someone having their air and self ripped into the pull of a force half the size of the moon. Next was Boris, he told us he was closing each section off and a breach in the cockpit killed the pilot, he made sure we knew it would have been virtually painless. I still don't believe him, that wasn't a scream of painless blissful disintegration. I was in my station/room and staring as she floated away, Boris told us next he was trying to see what he could do from the engine room, and that it was getting hotter, and the pressure was building.

Next came the bang, not of the engine but from Geo's quarters, I don't know how they managed to bring a gun or what made them think they could fire it in a 0g environment but first was the small bang, and then almost instantly was a much larger bang that I assume took Boris with it. That's when I prayed, the first pop louder than anything I had heard for days, louder than the scream, the following explosion was probably louder. I couldn't hear over my foolish wish to live, to survive. I don't really know why I wanted to, maybe it's human nature, the crash was probably loud too but you can't hear out there. There isn't any sound, I had put on my emergency evac suit to help with the pressure. Protocol made without the thought of what emergency we would actually be able to survive.

I remember being confused at first standing on the rock watching earth get smaller. I should have been immolated or atleast had a tear or something but I was fine just me in my little suit trapped with a blackbox with a clock on it, a clock and a calendar. If it weren't for those I would have probably lost my mind, or maybe I did. I might have, I should have, I named the box Boris. I found it fitting since he was the last voice recorded and honestly it was more him than anyone else. I was suppose to run out of air in 10 hours and according to my suit I did. That was forever ago.

When I say forever I don't mean years or months or day I mean centuries 3 of them. 300 years of just walking and screaming, I took off my helmet and I am still here that was less than a week in after I filled the sanitation repository. I though I would get my sweet oblivion then but I lived. I have been naked in space now longer than I have ever worn clothes, I began plucking my hairs to make clothes but then were uncomfortable so I made a bed. I doubt I actually weaved them correctly. I have had so much time talking with Boris hearing the shrieking nothing and watching waves of energy crash against my new home....home isn't the right word maybe grave. It went on like that for an eternity just filling time with self harm and silent screams. There was no life as the astroid flew just planets, and other astroids in every shade of brown, grey, and black. I saw a comet at one point probably several after a while I stopped really noticing anything.

It's like when you drive for a while to work, at first it drags but each trip it is a little faster until it feels like a short drive. Like that but no destination, until the second time I prayed. Shortly before I carved this, when I saw earth approaching again. I think before the madness or maybe in-between the episodes I fantasized about making it to earth again and that the course was an orbit. As the approach gets closer though I prayed I would die with everyone else. My grave will be another extinction event. I hope that whatever cruel deity made me live in this hell would give me a peaceful end. The pain or being alone on my own home might be worse, atleast I would have new avenues to try and find the secret to being free. I may even become a moon, a second moon for the soon to be baren earth. An ode to silence and a cosmic joke told by Bill and a punchline delivered by me, us really Boris, Grave and I. There is less green than when I left on the earth. The oceans are a grey now. Maybe it's for the best, I hope I will be given rest

-If

[deliriumsdelight7]

57 for hellcheer please :)

Breakup songs for Hellcheer? SACRILEGE. Lemme see what I can come up with...

....Oh. Oh no. This one's gonna hurt, guys. Warning: eating disorder, suicide, drug overdose, angst no happy ending.

It was seven fifteen the morning after the big Hawkins High baseball game when someone came knocking at the front door of the Munson trailer.

The banging woke Eddie out of a fitful, anxious sleep, and he cracked one bleary eye open in annoyance. Staggering to his feet and shoving his legs into the nearest pair of sweatpants, he made his grumbling way to the door, wondering what asshole would wake him at this ungodly hour. Wayne wouldn't be home from the plant for another half hour, and all his friends knew not to drag his ass out of bed before nine at the earliest on a Saturday. It could be Chrissy, but he couldn't imagine the timid cheerleader pounding so impatiently at his door. Not even after months of gradually bringing her out of her shell when she came over every Friday night for her weekly dose of ket.

He wrenched the door open. "This better be... aw, fuck." Standing on the other side of the door, staring gravely at him, was Chief Hopper. "If it's a noise complaint, tell the Mayfields I'll turn my music down next time," he said, intending to do no such thing.

"Not here for that, Eddie." Hopper put his hands on his hips, looking like he wished he was anywhere else. "I need you to tell me where you were last night."

Shiiiit. Someone was trying to get him in trouble with the fuzz. Lucky for him, he had an alibi. "I was here all night," he said. "You can ask Chrissy Cunningham. She was here with me 'til about midnight."

Hopper sighed. "That's what I'm here about. Miss Cunningham was found dead in her room this morning of a suspected drug overdose. For obvious reasons, you're the first person we decided to ask."

The words resounded in Eddie's head - like in the old cartoons when someone put a pot over a character's head and smacked it with a hammer. Dead. Dead. Dead. His knees buckled, and he grabbed tight onto the doorway to keep from falling to the floor.

"No, she... no," he said, his voice sounding a thousand miles away in his own ears. "No, she was... she was getting better. Last night, she was happy. Happier than I've seen her in months."

Hopper nodded grimly. "That can happen. When... when someone makes the decision to end their own... well. Sometimes their mood improves. In the end."

Eddie thought back - back to the weekly visits they'd had every Friday night since spring break. Chrissy would sneak into his trailer after her parents went to bed. Unable to deny her anything, Eddie gave her everything he could: a shoulder to cry on, food to eat when she could keep it down, a closed bathroom door and loud music to drown out the sound of her retching when she couldn't. And every week, she'd buy a dose of ketamine from him and bring it home.

"To get me through a weekend in that house," she always said.

Last night, she'd been downright chipper. He'd figured it was because they were only a few weeks away from graduating. A few weeks, and she could get out from under her mother's thumb forever. When she'd asked for her usual bump of ket to take home, he thought nothing of it.

Had she been saving it up all this time? Was this her ploy? Worm her way into the heart of Hawkins High's drug dealer, buy ketamine under cost, stock up, and end it all?

Anger and despair welled up inside of him, black and choking.

Hopper cleared his throat, yanking him back to the present. "You're not suspected of anything," he said. "Yet. But I've gotta know, Eddie: did you sell her anything?"

"W... weed," he mumbled, having just enough brainpower to manage the feeble lie. Nobody would believe him if he said that perfect Chrissy Cunningham came to his place for the joy of his company. Even he knew it wasn't true. If he admitted to selling her weed, they'd be less likely to nail him for anything harder. "She's... she was... a cute girl. Figured if I smoked her up for long enough, maybe I'd get something out of it."

The lie sat bitter on his tongue. He'd sold her drugs at a loss for two months now, and never dreamed of asking for a damn thing in return. Just spending time with her, helping her in the small way he could, had been enough.

And it turned out, all this time he'd been making things worse.

"Alright. Well, depending on what the coroner says, we might need you to come by the station to ask a few questions," Hopper said. "I'd appreciate it if you cooperated with our investigation."

Eddie nodded numbly. "Right. Sure. Yep."

When Hopper left, Eddie leapt into action. All he wanted to do was curl up into a ball, lick his wounds, and cry his heart out for the girl he'd been unable to save. The girl he'd killed without even knowing it.

But the cops would be coming soon, and that meant he had to ditch any drugs and other paraphernalia he had in the trailer. First went the weed and rolling papers. The lighters he kept - he smoked cigarettes, after all - but everything else went down the toilet.

Once that was gone, he snatched up the small metal container where he kept his ketamine. Cracking it open, he was surprised to see a folded piece of notebook paper fall out. On one side, he saw his name written in a feminine, cursive hand.

Reaching out with shaking hands, he smoothed the note out and read.

Dear Eddie,

If you're reading this, then I've done what I set out to do. And if that's true, then you're probably really mad at me. You probably think I used you. And... I guess I did. I'm sorry.

I need you to know that it wasn't just about the drugs. I mean, it was at first, but... you helped me with so much more than that. You made me laugh. You made me smile. You made me forget, for a few hours every week, that my life wasn't my own.

Please believe me when I say that none of this was your fault. If I didn't go to you, I would've gone to someone else. Someone who wouldn't have shown half the kindness you did. Someone I wouldn't have grown to care about so deeply these past few months. So I'm begging you: please don't blame yourself for this. You made my last months the happiest of my life.

I wish things could be different. But the closer graduation came, the more I realized that I'll never get free from my mother. And I can't live like that anymore.

I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm not strong like you are.

Goodbye.

Love,

Chrissy

P.S. Don't worry about the cops. I've taken steps to make sure they don't suspect you.

P.P.S. Don't let this get in the way of graduating. You're so close. I want you to get your diploma, get out of this town, and never look back. For both of us. Maybe that's selfish of me to say. Sorry again.

Eddie read over the note three times, still hardly able to believe it. Chrissy was gone. She was gone. And she wasn't coming back.

Dumping the ketamine into the toilet, Eddie curled into a ball and screamed. His sobs drowned out the sound of the water swirling in the toilet bowl, sending the baggy of white powder down the U-bend.