#but then. i tripped and dropped one of my shoes. so i had to double back and grab it before the gate closed on me so b s

[deus-ex-mona]

the ✨fickleness✨ of the heart

[adventuringblind]

Biology Sucks

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Reader has really bad periods and is embarrassed about it. Oscar just wants to help.

Warnings: Really bad periods and everything that comes with them

Notes: To the requester, I feel you on the bad period thing. I hope this brings you the comfort you need to get through your next one!

Side Note: My inbox is open if you wanna come chat with me :)

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It hurts. A familiar hurt, unfortunately, and she's not sure whether that's better or worse yet. Of all the things that could've happened on her date, it had to be this.

She excuses herself from the table. Oscar gives her a concerned look, but she waves it off. "Just need to freshen up." Oscar nods, but he doesn't look convinced.

Eight months, and he already knows how to read her like a book.

She ends up leaving her date early because she already knows how this ends. It'll look like she's gone to war and got stabbed lower than necessary. It also currently feels that way, and she's ready to throw up her guts if that's what it takes to make it stop.

Oscar texts her. Then he calls her. Eventually deciding she probably has fallen asleep if she wasn't feeling well and decides to do something for her in the morning.

The same event had happened last month, and she'd avoided him for the entire week. The brief topic of periods came up because he asked if that was it, and she'd told him they were considerably bad.

The benefit of having sisters is that he at least knows the basics here. He throws on some shoes in the early hours of the morning and heads out the door to the convenience store.

Oscar makes a guess from the information he's gleaned on what kinds of snacks she would like. He also throws a text to his mum to double-check because lord knows if he messes this up, she'll come for his head.

It's just past ten when he arrives at her flat and unlocks the door with the spare key. He questions if this could be considered breaking and entering since he technically didn't know the spare key would be hidden inside the bottom of a fake plant. Things to worry about later, he supposes.

He finds her sprawled out of the bed, a bottle of painkillers open on the side table. He drops his own bags on the grounds softly so he doesn't wake her.

Especially not when she's shivering in her sleep and he can see the sticky red coating the sheets. He determines to let her sleep until he has everything ready to clean her up. There is no point in letting her sit in it while awake for no reason.

He remembers specifically making trips to the store with his mum for bed sheets when his sisters had similar problems. He just wishes she felt comfortable telling him about it. Heaven help is was some bastard making her feel like this is gross and not some natural part of life.

He admits openly to punching one person in his lifetime. The boy who was picking on his sister for bleeding through her shorts while he was home for Christmas one year. He made the boys nose bleed and called him gross for it. Oscar tries not to think about what he would do now that he's bulked up.

He starts the bath, finds her extra clothes, including his own hoodie, and attempts to locate her spare sheets. He feels bad going through all her cupboards, but he doesn't want to wake her up to ask.

When everything is all set up, he sets himself down gently beside and caresses the side of her face until she wakes.

Initially, there is a look of terror on her face until she realizes it's just Oscar and not an intruder. "How'd you get in?"

"Your spare key wasn't hard to find."

She takes a breath to settle her heart. That's when she feels what's underneath her... and beside her... all around her, really. "I-" the tears are pathetic.

"It's okay, really! My sister's had some bad ones as did my mum. Can I touch you?"

The pit in her stomach ends up settling in confusion. She tilts her head. "You're not, like, disgusted?"

"It's biology, isn't it? Natural? I see no reason to be disgusted." It the certainty of which he says it that make the tears start.

Oscar coos at her, waiting until she's calmed down to set about getting her cleaned up. "I ran you a bath already. I figured you'd want it warm and bubbly."

She cries again. Not because she's upset - far from it - but nobody has ever done this for her. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve this."

"To be fair, I don't think you ask to bleed every month."

While she's in the bath, Oscar strips the bed down and recreates it how he thinks it should go. The key word here is thinks. His eye for aesthetics isn't the best, but he makes it work regardless.

Soon, she's out of the bath and in his hoodie. "Feeling any better?"

"A bit... thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, I'm not the best in the kitchen, so this might actually kill you instead."

She hesitate when he sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him. "Aren't you worried I might bleed on you?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you could bleed on all my clothes and I'd happily purchase new ones if it means you'll come cuddle with me."

She relents and curls up in Oscar's lap. He turns on a movie and they both end up falling asleep to it.

Easy to say it's the best she's ever slept on her period. And when she wakes up to Oscar purchasing a new pair of sweats, he smiles at her. "I figure if it will help you stress less, I will get some extra clothes just in case." No hints of judgment or annoyance. Just Oscar trying to help.

Yeah, maybe periods don't have to be so miserable while he's around.

[yes-divine-ruler]

Mr Anderson - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

cw: uni professor/student relationship (student is of age), oral (both receiving), smut, spanking w a belt

wc: 3.2k

You sat down eagerly at the front of the lecture hall, sliding your tote bag onto the desk. You take out your laptop and your folder of loose leaf paper, organising it in front of you. You were early five minutes, giving you the time to compose yourself before your professor arrived. It wasn’t like political philosophy was anything special. The information being relayed to you was dull, but the way it was being taught was what had your undivided attention.

Mr Anderson flew through the double doors of the lecture hall with a minute to spare. In a hurry, he paces over to his desk, tucking in the front of his button up shirt into his slacks. It was black today, like his pants and polished shoes. He wore a heavyweight coat that he shrugged off and rested on the backrest of his chair. Your breath catches in your throat just looking at him. Undeniably, Mr Anderson was the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d have him to thank for your perfect attendance and grades. He wasn’t only nice to look at, but he believed in you. He made everyone feel like they had the potential to succeed.

You take your pencil case out of your tote, and discard the bag by your feet. Your hands shook as you tried to unzip your pencil case. Mr Anderson always made you feel like a nervous wreck. It was mortifying, especially when he’d notice.

“Okay everyone, welcome back to political philosophy,” Mr Anderson gains the attention of the class. His sudden introduction startled you, and with fingers like butter, your pencil case slides off the end of your desk. Your pens sprawl across the carpet at the front of the hall.

Mr Anderson stops shortly, and let’s out a small laugh, approaching your desk. Your face heats up as you get a whiff of his intoxicating cologne. He even smelt godly.

“I’m sorry, Mr Anderson,” you apologise, getting up to collect your pens on your own. Mr Anderson was already one step ahead of you, and passed back your pens in a closed fist.

“You have to be more careful Y/N,” he teases, and all you can do is offer him a small, weary smile in response.

Mr Anderson continues on with his class. You pay close attention to everything he says, noting down what was important to remember. It doesn’t take long before you’re scribbling in the margins of your notebook and keeping a trained eye on the way his body moved. You didn’t think you were anything special. Not special enough for your professor to see you as anything more than what you were. He knew your name but, he barely treated you different to the other students.

You spent the rest of the lesson trying to conspire up ways to stand out to Mr Anderson. The semester was almost at an end, and with only a few weeks to go, you knew you had to act fast. It would be a heck of a summer if you could just get inside his head.

The following week you turned up to class dressed to impress. Mr Anderson was in early today, looking more organised and less flustered than last week. His hair was tied back into a man bun, accentuating his sharp, dark features.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” Mr Anderson doesn’t even look up at his desk to greet you. You huff, deciding to stand opposite his desk so he would notice you. He drops his pen, and his gaze finds yours.

It doesn’t take long before he’s noticing your outfit next. A shopping trip to the mall scored you a tight-fitting white top with a low neckline, and the tiniest pair of shorts you could find. Your hair cascaded down your back in small waves. Never seeing you in anything but sweats, Mr Anderson’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.

“Hi Mr Anderson,” you spoke sweetly, taking a printed copy of your political essay out of your tote, “I ended up finishing my draft last night, do you think you can help me look over it after class?”

Your sudden change in appearance and your confident demeanour had your professor speechless. He tried to form the words to say, but couldn’t help taking glances at your copious amounts of cleavage. Knowing your plan was working, you set the essay down on the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got an hour after class. I can help you,” you saw Mr Anderson’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your plan was well in action, and you’d cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier.

It wasn’t only Mr Anderson’s attention you’d snagged. As your classmates filtered into the hall, you noticed a lot more stares in your direction. You’d even managed to persuade one of the guys in your class to sit at the front beside you. No one was usually inclined to sit beside you, especially at the front of the hall in Mr Anderson’s direct line of vision. This new found confidence and attention gave you the drive you needed to seal the deal.

“Hey,” the guy next to you whispers to you as Mr Anderson begins the lesson. You turn to look at him and offer him a small smile.

“Y/N right? I’m Kyle,” Kyle smiles back and tears off the corner of his note-page. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as he slides it over to you. Before you have the chance to read what it says, a hand slams down on your desk.

“Give me that,” you look up to see Mr Anderson had halted his lesson just to get the note you were given.

“Sir, this isn’t high school. We’re allowed to pass notes,” Kyle scoffed, earning himself a few laughs.

“I don’t care, it’s still not appropriate. Y/N? Now please,” Mr Anderson holds out his hand and you hesitantly pass over the note.

He crumples it in his hand and walks coolly back to the front of the hall. You don’t have the nerve to look back at Kyle, who you can now see is typing furiously on his phone. Mr Anderson makes eye contact with you. Something in his gaze burns. In response, you slump in your chair and try to finish the rest of the lesson without pulling your hair out.

When class is over, you wait until everyone’s gone before you approach Mr Anderson again. Mr Anderson stands at the double doors, holding it open and letting everyone leave.

“Hey,” Kyle stands in front of your desk, “sorry about that, don’t know why Mr Anderson is being a dick. Can I grab your Snapchat?”

You try not to laugh as you nod your head. Kyle was cute but, he wasn’t the type of guy you craved. You craved a man who stood over you and took control. Like Mr Anderson.

Regardless, you type your username in his phone and give him a wave as he leaves. Maybe Mr Anderson will see the exchange and feel the way he did about the note.

“Y/N, come sit,” Mr Anderson shuts the door of the hall, locking in from the inside. You leave your desk to sit next to him behind his own.

“I haven’t had a chance to read over it yet, shall we do it in sections?” Mr Anderson tucks in his chair, coming in closer to you. His knee brushes yours, sending a tingle up your spine.

“That’s fine Mr Anderson,” you respond, your gaze burning into the side of his face as he reads.

“What made you want to dress so different today? Change in weather?” Your eyes widen at his question. You clear your throat and let out a small laugh.

“Um, kinda. I was sick of wearing sweats. Suddenly everyone is noticing me,” you bat your eyelashes at your professor as he shares your laughter.

“Ah well. Sounds superficial to me. They should appreciate you regardless.” His comment stumps you, but with your new found confidence, you lean closer to him to whisper.

“I saw you looking too, Mr Anderson,” you purr, “you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Mr Anderson subtly chokes on the sip he’d just taken from his keep cup.

“Sorry?” He asks, turning to look you in the eyes.

“You heard me,” you push, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I could feel it. I thought you might like it.”

Mr Anderson suddenly goes stiff. His eyes turn dark as he turns his entire body to face you. You try and keep your confidence high knowing that passed this point, it was either make or break.

“That isn’t appropriate Y/N,” he growls sternly, getting up from his chair. Shit. You blew it.

You open your mouth to speak, but Mr Anderson has other plans.

“You’re telling me, you dressed like a whore to get my attention?” His lips form into a snarl as he waits for your response. You wanted to just curl into a ball and die.

“Um, I dont know what to say- I-”

“Get up.”

In shock, you hesitantly follow his orders, standing from your chair. You were so close you could feel his cool, minty breath fan your face.

Mr Anderson’s hands find your hips, and in surprise, you gasp. His cool hands turn you around and push your hips into the edge of the desk.

“I’ve always noticed you, Y/N,” your back presses against his chest as he hovers behind you. A dull pulse ignites between your thighs, making you feel lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He had an effect on you six feet away from you. The close proximity was almost too much.

“You’re my best student,” he whispers, pressing the front of his pants to your barely covered ass, “you don’t need to compromise yourself to be that.”

His big hand sits between your shoulder blades, and in an instant, he has you bent over his desk. Your tiny shorts had ridden all the way up, exposing almost the entirety of your ass cheeks.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, as you hear the buckle on his belt rattle as he unclasps it.

“Yes, Mr Anderson,” your breathing picks up pace as you get more excited. Everything you’d dreamed of the whole semester was coming to fruition.

“You have to promise me something,” he says as you feel the cool leather touch your exposed skin. Your body breaks out in a frenzy of tiny goosebumps as he sways the belt across your ass.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, not your friends, not your family, no one. You must understand how bad this is for me, to be giving into you,” Mr Anderson pushes up against your ass again, digging your hips harder into the edge of the table. You let out a small whimper, loud enough for Mr Anderson to notice. The bulge in the front of his slacks only grows hearing the sounds you’re making.

“I promise sir,” you whine, turning your head to look behind you. You see that Mr Anderson had taken off his belt and unfastened his pants. His dark grey boxers were the only thing stopping you from seeing him fully. You’d imagined so many times how big it must be.

“Good girl,” Mr Anderson mewls, before he strikes your ass cheek with the thick leather strap of his belt. You gasp loudly, your body withering beneath him at the pain. When the sting is over, the dull pulse takes over, this time, much more unbearable.

“Let me take these off,” Mr Anderson reaches around to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning them to pull them down your legs. You step out of them, almost shaking in anticipation. It reveals to him your tiny, lace panties.

“Fuck,” you’d never heard Mr Anderson swear. It was so sexy hearing him so worked up that another wave of pleasure coursed through you.

“You’ve been misbehaving, Y/N,” he says, the belt caressing your ass again, “wearing those slutty little clothes just for your professor, those tiny panties,” Mr Anderson was almost shaking in excitement too.

“Please sir,” you plead pathetically, bracing yourself with your hands on the table, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. I think you need to feel how wrong it is.”

Another moment passes before Mr Anderson strikes your ass again with the belt. And then again. And again. Until tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your throat goes dry. Your ass was sure to be burning red by now, and it was definitely sore as Mr Anderson caressed his work with his fingers.

“You did so well, I’m done, that’s all your punishment,” he says softly, before he’s pulling your panties down your legs. The cool breeze hits your soaking folds, and it was only then did you realise just how turned on the pain made you.

“Holy shit,” Mr Anderson let’s out a low whistle as he gets on his knees behind you. You wiggle uncomfortably as he spreads your cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You’re soaking fucking wet,” he growls, before his fingers make their first contact with your pussy. You almost cry out as Mr Anderson teasingly runs a finger up and down your slit, collecting your sweet arousal. He smears your slick across your clit, applying a small amount of pressure on it. Your knees buckle, but Mr Anderson’s hold on you keeps you up right.

“You little whore. Who would’ve thought, Y/N, a good student, sickly attracted to her professor,” he blows on your cunt, provoking another pleading whine from you.

“Please, sir. I can’t wait,” you cry, pushing your ass out and closer to his face.

Mr Anderson hums, coming in closer and caving to his own desires. With your cheeks spread open for him, he dives in, his tongue prodding between your folds. You moan as he violates you with his tongue, bringing it down towards your sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks your clit into his mouth, before he’s moving his tongue towards your second hole.

“Oh my god, yes! Yes, fuck!” Your eyes shut as the pleasure rocks you, your nails digging into his desk for leverage. Mr Anderson’s tongue swirls around your tight hole, before he’s back to your dripping cunt. His mouth works expertly against your heat, humming contently at the taste of you.

“Fuck. Come here,” Mr Anderson stands and pulls you away from the desk, pushing you down onto your knees.

He lifts your shirt, above your breasts, seeing you’d also failed to wear a bra. Your nipples stood to attention, as you stared up at him with doe eyes. Mr Anderson pulled out his heavy cock, and your eyes turned the size of dinner plates just looking at it.

“Open,” he commands, his fingers locking around your jaw and wrenching your mouth open.

You took him in your mouth willingly. Mr Anderson takes advantage, shoving his cock so far down your throat it triggered your gag reflex. You look hopelessly up at him as his fucks your throat, collecting all the saliva he could around his thick cock. More tears collect in your eyes as you stare up at him like a lost puppy. His gaze burns into yours as flashes of lust, anger and need glaze over his dark eyes. He desperately needed to be inside your tight, dripping cunt and he didn’t have much time.

“Get up,” he commands again, watching you rise to your feet. With your chests pressed against each other, Kai goes in for the kill. Capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, he pushes your ass back against the desk. You moan into his mouth as his tongue dances with yours, exploring the entirety of the inside of your mouth. His lips are soft and smooth and he tastes extraordinary. It exceeded your dirtiest, darkest thoughts about him.

His hands push your hips down onto the surface of the desk, and then cup under your thighs to hold your legs up. His lips detach from yours, and with one hand, he guides his leaking tip towards your entrance. Mr Anderson spits, directly on your pussy, and a moment later he’s stretching you out. Inch by inch, he sinks inside you. Your head tilts back from the intense pulses of pleasure, and a tiny whine escapes your lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mr Anderson seethes, using his weight to keep your hips down as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Oh Mr Anderson! Fuck!” You moan, just as he begins to rut his hips. He slams himself inside you, filling you completely, before pulling almost all the way out.

He repeats the motion, his face screwed in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he growls, his fingertips digging in your skin and leaving red prints, “you look so fucking good right now.”

You could help but watch where your bodies met. You knew you were on the brink of finishing. Mr Anderson’s cock disappeared inside you, only to come out glistening in your arousal, time and time again. His thumb rests on your swollen clit, circling it with more of his spit.

“Is my good girl gonna cum? Are you gonna finish on Mr Anderson’s cock?” His thrusts only got harder, the tip of his cock deliciously prodding at your sweet spot.

“Yes! Yes sir, can I cum?” You asked, seeing stars in your field of vision as the knot in your abdomen begged to be untied.

“Good girl, cum. Cum for me,” Mr Anderson fucked you so gruellingly and deep it tipped you over the edge.

You let out a pleasured cry as you came like you’d never cum before. Mr Anderson was close behind you, finishing inside you and fucking his cum deep into your pulsing cunt. When he pulled out, still stimulating your clit, a small stream of arousal soaked the front of his shirt. He groaned as you lay, fucked out and panting to catch your breath back. Unfortunately, having wet your draft essay in the process.

Mr Anderson took a moment longer to soak in the image of your bare body, before you finally sat up.

“Why are you wet?” You asked, scrunching your nose in confusion as you got off the desk to dress yourself.

“You squirted on me, sweetheart,” Mr Anderson chuckled, as all the blood drained from your face.

“Oh I’m so sorry sir,” you were quick to reach forward and try and wipe at his dress shirt.

“Your essay too,” he smirked, picking it up in his hand and showing it to you. You groaned.

“I really did want you to read that,” you pouted, trying to take back the wet, and probably unreadable, essay.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, shoving it into his bag, “I’m keeping that. Ill be able to read it.”

The blood returned to your face with a furious heat as your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

“Y/N, remember your promise,” Mr Anderson cupped your cheek and ran his thumb affectionately over your cheek bone, “and I’d like to see you again.”

Your heart fluttered hearing he wanted to see you again.

“Okay Mr Anderson, thank you,” you smile at him, ready to leave the lecture hall and freak out on your own about what just happened.

“Oh and Y/N,” he stopped you a final time as you reached the hall doors. You turn and face him.

“Call me Kai, outside of class, of course.”

TAGLIST: @evanpetersfanblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence ce @simp4petermaximoff f @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler r @spill-the-t -t @hihidora

[lithepetal]

Second Chance Chapter 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist? Not to Aurora; more like stubborn, unreasonable, overprotective father.

Warnings: father-daughter fluff

Series Masterlist

Crisp, cool air swirled like an eddy around her, the crunch of leaves underfoot as she jogged along the familiar path through Central Park. Aurora’s brown hair flapped in the breeze, wisps from her ponytail plastered against the nape of her neck and face by sweat.

Exiting the park, she merged onto the bustling sidewalk, her nose filled with the aroma of coffee and freshly-baked bagels. She raced past several street vendors, could practically taste the first savory bite of an everything bagel, her stomach grumbling in protest when she bypassed all of them. Determined to beat her father, she continued onward with an empty belly and only mild regret.

Aurora loved Manhattan, everything the cultural mecca offered. Opposite the laid-back vibe of California, she found that, after they moved following the incident with the Mandarin, she was happy to call NYC ‘home’. At age 11, she started ballet, and though she never dreamt of becoming an Avenger, Tony breathed a little easier each night knowing her flexibility and grace could get her out of not all, but at least some, potentially dangerous situations.

The newly-renamed Avengers Tower loomed ahead, and still, her father had yet to catch up. Exhilaration fueling her steps, her pacing and agility worked to her advantage. Her tennis shoes bleated against the concrete, pushing her closer and closer to her destination.

At last, she reached the high-rise building and stopped in front of the entrance, doubling over. Panting, she side-eyed her father as he jogged up next to her. “You’re getting slow in your old age, Dad.”

“I think,” Tony huffed a winded breath, “the term for sassing your old man is grounded.”

They entered and took the elevator to the kitchen, Aurora noticing the concern layered beneath her father’s usual veneer of sarcasm. Opening the fridge, she grabbed two bottles of water. Tossing one to him, she said, “Nice try, Dad. I’m going on my field trip.”

“An entire weekend…” Tony began, reigniting their argument over whether he was going to permit her to go. The field trip was already paid for, but she had a nagging feeling that was Pepper’s doing. While short of outright telling her ‘no’, he did everything in his power to persuade her against it. “You’ve never been out of my sight for that long.”

“You’re gone all the time,” she pointed out, “for much longer.”

“I’m an adult. How old are you, again?” he asked offhandedly, as he fidgeted with the blender to make their post-run smoothies.

“Seventeen.”

“Precisely,” Tony retorted, gaze finally alighting on hers. “Seventeen. Too young to go off for the weekend on your own.”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “I’ll be with classmates and my teacher. Besides, we’re just going to the Smithsonian.”

“There ya go. Problem solved,” Tony exclaimed. “If you want a history lesson, we can invite Cap over.”

“Dad…” she groaned.

Not that she didn’t relish the idea of Steve dropping by—with the exception of Bruce, it had been a couple months since she’d seen anyone from the team. However, she didn’t understand why he was being so stubborn about letting her go on a class field trip.

Tony paused as he stared blankly at the assortment of greens on the counter, then— “Washington, D.C.”

“Yep.”

“Three whole days.”

“Mhm,” she answered, taking a sip of water and smiling into the bottle.

Tony leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of him. “What if I said I have a bad feeling?”

“Hey, JARVIS?”

“Yes, Miss Stark?”

“Statistically, what are the chances of me getting kidnapped?”

“The probability of Miss Stark being kidnapped is 0.27 percent per 1,000 residents in the District of Columbia area.”

Aurora turned to her father with an ear-to-ear grin. “See, Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“Not helpful, JARVIS, you forgot to factor in she’s my daughter,” Tony reprimanded, garnering an apology from the AI. “And you, young lady, are too smart for your own good.” There was another lengthy pause, during which Aurora’s amber eyes glittered, sensing the weeks-long stalemate coming to an end. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah…” An uncharacteristic somberness settled over Tony’s features. Closing the space between them, he wrapped his arms around her, chin pressed against the top of her head. He muttered, “Be careful.”

“I will, Dad.”

[imtrashraccoon]

The final Dust chapter...we're halfway through folks! I'm really happy with this one and it fills me with many fuzzy feelings.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Tears

Word Count: 2,235.

It was a good day.

You were packing for college and you'd soon be halfway across the country far away from your insufferable family. You'd promised you would call, but had added that you may be too busy to do so. Psychology was a complicated subject and you would likely be swamped with coursework afterall.

They didn't care and neither did you for that matter. You gladly welcomed the chance to have a fresh start and freedom to live life the way you'd always dreamed to. You would be your own person and not just the lesser copy of your elder sister.

"Hey! Are you deaf or something?"

Speak of the devil and she shall appear. You dropped a folded shirt onto your suitcase and turned to the doorway of your bedroom where your sister was standing impatiently. She was wearing a new dress and expensive shoes, again, and her face was practically caked with designer makeup.

"What do you want now?" you heard yourself grumble.

Your sister rolled her eyes. "I asked what do you think you're doing? Mom needs you to watch the house for the next week while they're away, you can't just leave!"

You frowned and crossed your arms. "We've been over this at least a dozen times. I'm leaving tomorrow morning to catch a plane so I'll have time to get settled in the dorms before the first semester starts. I can't just rebook the flight now as they won't refund me."

Her face contorted into a snarl and she crossed her arms. "Fine, go and abandon our parents for a stupid degree. You'll come to regret it one day!"

She turned to leave and as the clicking of her heels on the laminate flooring started to fade, you darted to the door to stop her. "Hold on! Why can't you watch the house? You're not going to college right away..."

Your sister scoffed and flipped her long hair behind her back as she turned around again. "Who needs college? All I gotta do is bag some rich idiot who'll bend over backwards for anything I want."

"Gross."

"And what, working every day for the rest of your life is somehow better?"

"At least I'll have something to fall back on while you'll be left high and dry when he dumps you." You crossed your arms and glared at her. "And you didn't answer my question, what are you doing that is keeping you so busy?"

"The girls and I are going on a trip to Vegas to celebrate graduating." She narrowed her eyes at you and poked your chest with one of her too long manicured nails. "And no, you're not invited, you fun sponge...."

"Double gross. I wouldn't be caught dead with your 'friends', not after all the crap they put me through." You made air quotes with your fingers to emphasize that word specifically.

"Ugh! Mom was right, you're way too sensitive."

You clenched your jaw and took a slow, deliberate breath. Once you had calmed down and weren't about to clock your own sister, you asked another question. "How are you even affording a trip after you were fired? Surely, mom and dad aren't bankrolling this too?"

She rolled her eyes, "Idiot, I'm temporarily borrowing from my inheritance that Grandma left. I have plenty of time to put it back if I actually decide to go to college anyways."

You frowned as she turned and left the house. Something about how she'd said that didn't sit right with you. Your grandmother had left both of you money for college and you had decided long ago to keep it just for that. Your sister was as careless as ever though, but what right did you have to judge her foolish spending habits? It would undoubtedly come back to bite her one day and by then you would be financially secure with an amazing career.

You also didn't like how your sister had seemingly ignored all the times you'd told your family your plans over the past few weeks. You weren't going to give them up now, not even if she begged you to.

If only it had been so simple...

"What do you mean the money's gone?! That was meant to be for my college!" you remembered shouting.

Your mother didn't even turn around and continued packing her suitcase. "Remember when your sister was in that car accident a year ago? We needed to get her corrective surgery and the money had to come from somewhere. It's just money and family is more important. Besides, it's not even like it was actually yours and we'd only briefly talked about it."

It's not fair...

You woke with a heavy heart. Why had your brain chosen that particular memory to fixate on? It had been years since you left home and cut contact with just about everyone you ever knew.

Sitting up in bed, you wrapped your blankets around your shoulders and took deep breaths to try and relax. No matter how much time passed, you couldn't seem to forget about them, even though you'd tried.

There was no way you could forget about the nightmare and go back to sleep now either. Your mind was simply too jumbled to rest and it felt like you were reliving the painful emotions you'd experienced back then all over again.

It was way too early in the morning to stay up though. Maybe a snack and a drink of water would help calm your frayed nerves? If not, there was always the option of binging some historical romance shows until you fell asleep on your own. With your mind made up, you steeled yourself for the trek to the kitchen.

You didn't get far though.

No sooner did you flip on the hall light, did your gaze settle on a familiar sight. Dust was hunched over in an almost fetal position on your couch with his hood covering his face. His skull was buried in his hands and from the way he was heavily breathing, you knew he'd been crying.

Your original mission forgotten, your heart immediately went out to him. Being careful not to startle him, you made your way over to the couch and sat down next to him.

The only acknowledgement he gave to signify that he was aware of your presence was a brief glance in your direction from beneath his hood.

"Is it one of those times again?" you asked softly.

He didn't answer.

"Can I give you a hug? You look like you could use one right now."

You waited a few seconds just in case, but when he didn't say no, you figured he at least wasn't opposed to the gesture. You wrapped your arms around him and sat there quietly, just holding him close for a while.

At some point, he shifted and tentatively wrapped his arms around you as well. He managed to give you a slight squeeze and murmured a very soft, "...thank you."

He seemed exhausted and in no mood to talk about whatever had bothered him to the point of tears. That was fine, you weren't exactly in the mood to dwell on whatever negative emotions your nightmare had dredged up either.

"Are you going to be alright now?" you asked.

He shrugged and you could feel his gloved phalanges mindlessly draw circles across your shirt. He didn't say anything for several seconds but you waited patiently in case he changed his mind.

"i'll be okay... just, i don't want to go back there right now..." he muttered.

"Well, I actually had a bad dream...and I really don't think I can go back to sleep anytime soon anyways." With a sigh, you loosened your hold on his body and asked, "Wanna just hang out with snacks and watch whatever trash happens to be on tv right now?"

"eh, beats being dead i guess..." he grunted and somewhat reluctantly let go of you.

You rolled your eyes at how snarky his tone of voice was. It seemed that his sass meter was always dialed up to eleven whenever he was exhausted, but you didn't mind in the slightest. His comments never came across as malicious anymore and you actually welcomed his often blunt jokes. It was better than when he used to ignore your questions at least.

You didn't have a whole lot of snack foods save for a bag of dill pickle chips and a pack of store bought chocolate chip cookies. Meh, they were still worthy choices in your opinion. Once you were both settled on the couch again with the snacks and some water, you flipped through the channels before settling on a rerun of an old western movie.

Only a few minutes into the film though, Dust decided to slink his arm around your shoulders and scooted closer until you might as well be cuddling. You didn't mind in the slightest and neither did you acknowledge that this was technically the most he'd willingly touched you before now.

"Can I ask you something, Dust?"

He hummed quietly and tilted his skull to look over at you.

"Is there a reason you wear gloves all the time?"

He glanced down at his left hand and tentatively flexed his phalanges in a thoughtful manner. "i just don't like getting my hands dirty...it's irritating..." he murmured.

"Ah, I wondered if that could be the reason."

"it's also good so i don't leave evidence laying around," he added with a dry chuckle.

You gave him a blank look but you couldn't tell if he was serious or not. "Now I know you're pulling my leg, skeletons don't have fingerprints..."

"...that you know of," he finished for you. There was a mischievous glint in his eyelights and you noticed his smile was slightly wider than usual.

"I...don't think I want to continue this conversation... I really don't need to know why someone like you worries about leaving evidence at crime scenes, okay?"

Dust chuckled quietly and squeezed your shoulder a little. "yeah, you already worry about enough as is, bean," he said.

"Huh... Why do you call me that anyways?" you asked. "It seems so random..."

A soft violet glow briefly flickered across his zygomatic bones and he glanced away from you. He made a sound of clearing his throat and tapped his phalanges nervously against the couch cushions.

"it's, uh... actually it's sort of a pun..." he muttered.

"Really?" You tilted your head thoughtfully as you tried to rack your brain for any kind of word it could be referring to. "I don't get it...?"

"well, it'll sound really lame if i explain it..."

"No, please tell me! I promise I won't laugh, okay?"

He chuckled and nodded, although you noticed his cheekbones were still that lovely shade of purple. "okay, okay... you're a...?"

"Woman?"

He shook his skull and vaguely gestured with his free hand. "a human...what?"

You narrowed your eyes in thought. "A human being..."

"now say it quickly and in an exaggerated voice."

"Human bein'...human bean..." You crossed your arms and fixed him with a "Really?" look.

Dust nearly dissolved into a fit of laughter, which made it really hard to keep a straight face but you had unfortunately promised not to laugh at him. Still, you were going to make it known how disappointed you were right now.

"i told you it was lame..." he finally managed to say once he'd calmed down again.

"you were right!" you grumbled and gave his knee a playful punch. "Axe was at least more creative that you."

"what, he didn't just pick something food related like, i dunno, pumpkin?"

You shook your head. "Nope, he calls me lil' chip. I actually never asked him why though..."

"huh... you're right, that is pretty creative," Dust muttered thoughtfully. "i still prefer bean though..."

You sighed and flopped your head against the back rest. "Suit yourself then..." you grumbled.

The movie turned out to be more boring than you'd thought it would be and you soon found yourself struggling to keep your eyes open. After you'd jolted yourself awake a couple of times when your head started to loll to one side, Dust seemed to get an idea.

"here..." He grabbed one of the throw pillows you had lying around and set it on his femurs. "if you're that tired, you should at least lay down so you don't hurt your neck or something.

You hesitated for a split second but realized that it couldn't hurt at least. So, you shifted your body until you could lay down comfortably with your head on the cushion in his lap. He spread a blanket over your body before flashing that more genuine smile of his at you.

"comfy?"

"Very..." you hummed in response.

Dust nodded and turned his attention back to the movie again. You tried to focus on it as well, especially when the more action packed scenes came on, but you couldn't seem to resist the pull of sleep any longer. It really didn't help when he started absentmindedly playing with your hair as well.

The next thing you knew, the sun was out and you were safely tucked back into your own bed. The only evidence that he'd been there at all was the couch pillows being slightly askew and the snacks being gone that you'd both consumed in the night.

[athenasparrow]

“you left your underwear back at my place.” Jily

Because this made me laugh when I read it

I hope this makes you laugh too @liiilyevans 😂

Rating: M

Send me a prompt

When Lily wakes up, it’s to a pounding headache and a bitter taste in her mouth that informs her – in a voice that sounds eerily like Petunia – that she shouldn’t have downed the five flaming vodka shots at the end of the night. But Marlene had already ordered them and it would’ve been such a waste.

Lily groans and reaches for her phone, determined to tell Marlene off for making her feel so damn horrible, but she's rather distracted by the message that blinks innocently at her on the screen.

Unknown: Hi : D You left your underwear at my place. Let me know when you're awake - I can drop them off.

Lily stares at the message...someone has obviously typed in the wrong number; it was hazy, but she remembers getting in the cab alone. And her underwear was still–

Oh no.

Lily frantically yanks up her dress, staring in horror at her very knickerless–

Lily: Who is this?

Had she shagged the cab driver? She couldn’t remember if he was cute or not. Oh god, what if she’d given in to the building super who had been hitting on her for months. He was like fifty! That would explain why he had her number. Shit, double shit. 

Lily: Is this Horace? 

Unknown: Wait, you're shagging Slughorn?

A wave of pure relief swept through Lily; she was not – thank god – shagging her super.

Lily: No! No more questions!

Who are you?

I’ve woken up with no knickers and am now checking the opening hours for my nearest chemist so I can go buy a fucking pregnancy test.

And get an STI screening!

I do not have time for games right now!

Tell me who you are and return my knickers at once!

Unknown:

Woah, hold on a sec

You don’t need a pregnancy test or an STI screening

At least not because of last night

Lily:

And how would you know that genius?

Unless you’re infertile and a virgin there’s a chance of both!

Again, who am I speaking with?????

Unknown: I am neither infertile nor a virgin

Lily: Then you don’t “know” shit, do you?

Unknown: But we did not have sex last night

Lily: Oh!

Unknown: And this is your neighbour, James

Lily: I don’t have a neighbour named James!

James: I beg to differ. Listen, can you answer your door?

Even with that warning, Lily still jumped when a sharp rap sounded in her apartment. She had quite a few things to say to this man! She didn’t have a neighbour named James; she would know, she’d been living in this apartment for three years. Alice and Frank lived down the hall – they were looking for a bigger place since the arrival of their little one – in number seven. Arabella – a lady who had more cats than square metres – lived in number six. Number five held a charming set of twins – Gideon and Fabian – who Lily was happy to flirt with every time they got mail at the same time. She was in number five and number four–

Oh no.

Lily doesn't have time to stop her hand as it reaches out in front of her and opens the door.

Fit bloke from number four.

He looks even more delicious and Lily is suddenly rather regretful he’d said they hadn’t shagged. But she’s distracted from that thought by the sudden assault of memories.

***

“Pads?” James calls, hearing the door slam shut. He barely glances up from his phone as he frowns at the latest next his mother’s sent him. 

He does jump up at the ensuing crash – and rather loud silence in place of his brother’s usual greeting – running to the hallway and greeted with a rather strange sight.

The beautiful redhead from number five is sprawled out on his floor and seems to be giving her shoe a rather harsh verbal lashing.

“What are you making me trip for, you stupid thing!”

“Are you sure it’s the shoe that made you trip and not the several glasses of whatever you’ve been drinking?” James interrupts with a laugh.

She spins around, obviously caught by surprise, before letting out a triumphant yell as she yanks one heel off, then the other, tossing them carelessly over her shoulder. James winces at the mark the first one leaves on his wall but decides it’s nothing when her second shoe narrowly misses the vase his mother had gifted him.

“I think you’re in the wrong apartment,” James says kindly. She looked quite plastered. “Would you like me to–”

“I’m not in the wrong apartment!” Lily interrupts confidently. “You’re fit-man!”

“I’m James actually?” James says, rather bewildered. “And if anyone is fit here, it’s you!”

The redhead looks rather delighted at his compliment. “That’s excellent that you think so! This will work rather nicely then!”

“What will work nic– Hey! What are you doing?” 

Jame thinks it’s a fair question since she’s hiked up her dress – he was not going to look – and was tugging her deep blue lacy knickers – no looking! – down her pale legs. 

“Well, how are we supposed to do it with them on?” The redhead says, shooting him a look that James thinks is supposed to mean duh when in reality, he’s quite far from understanding anything at the moment.

“It?” James asks, clearing his throat and happy she doesn't appear to notice he sounds like a frog.

“Don’t you know what sex is?” And now she’s giggling at him, bright and free and drunk.

“I know what sex is,” James feels the need to clarify. “But we can’t do it right now.” No matter how much I wish we could.

“Why not?” She demands, her eyes wide – and mesmerising – and horrified as she stares at him.

“Because you’re drunk,” James breaks to her gently, fighting back a laugh. “And I don’t even know your name.”

“Lily.” A pause. “I suppose it would be odd to have sex with me when you don’t know my name.”

James nods vigorously, glad she’s seeing some sense. Hopefully he can convince her to go back to her apartment so he doesn't have to keep telling his cock to stay the fuck down. 

“It’s a pity I’m drunk,” she tells him. “I was really hoping for an orgasm before bed, it really helps me sleep, you know?”

James chokes on the very air he was supposed to be breathing. He does know but he’s not going to tell her that. “I suppose you’ll have to sort that out yourself."

Lily heaves a long sigh like he’s announced Christmas has been cancelled. “Are you sure you can’t help me?” she pouts.

You’re sure James, he tells himself sternly. 

“I’m sure,” he confirms. “You’re drunk.” He says this out loud for his benefit as much as for hers.

“So you would help me if I wasn’t drunk?” 

I would bury my face between your legs and make you cum over and over again.

“Would love to,” James says instead. “If you still want to of course.”

“I’ll still want to,” Lily declares surely and James hopes so, but he won’t hold it against her if she doesn’t. “Oh no!”

“Oh no what?” 

“I’m going to be sick.”

Well shit. 

James scrambles to his feet, thankful the bathroom is in the hallway as he helps her stand and rushes her to the toilet. He holds her hair as she retches into the toilet and offers her a glass of water when she’s done. 

“Now I’ve ruined it” Lily sighs regretfully as she leans her cheek against the toilet seat.

“Ruined what?”

“My sexiness! This is decidedly un-sexy.”

He shouldn’t be flirting – she's drunk – but James can’t help but reassure her. “You could throw up in my toilet all day long and I’ll still think you're beautiful.”

“You would?”

“I would. But let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay? I think you could use some sleep.”

“You’re fit and nice. Do you think I could marry you someday?”

“How about we go on a sober date first,” James proposes, shoving aside the image of her in a white dress that his traitorous mind procures.

“If we must,” Lily hums, letting him pull her up. She grabs a pen off his console and – rather neatly, given how drunk she is – writes her number on his arm. “Now you can find me again!”

She looks so pleased with herself that James doesn’t remind her he only needs to walk three metres to her door. Instead, he grabs her shoes as he guides her out his door and down the hallway. When he sees her safely to bed – her eyes are already heavy – he slips out to leave her in peace. 

Damn. Her knickers.

He grins as he reaches into his pocket for his phone, typing in the numbers neatly scrawled on his arm.

James: Hi : D You left your underwear at my place…

[iboatedhere]

TK brings his hands to his mouth to cover a yawn, barely missing the sharp, unimpressed gaze of Mrs. Kozlov. 

He’s only picked Izzy up from class a handful of times, and aside from the initial— my name is TK Strand, Mrs. Vega called and gave the okay for me to pick Izzy up— interaction, he’s never actually held a conversation with the woman. But somehow, some way, he’s managed to draw the ire of the five-foot-nothing, sexagenarian ballet teacher. 

She’s good at what she does, clearly, and she’s been dancing since Russia was still The Soviet Union. He’s never heard a bad word about her from Izzy or Captain Vega or even Carlos, who picks Izzy up occasionally. 

But TK doubts Carlos would say anything bad about the woman. Or, more realistically, he doubts anyone would have anything bad to say about Carlos. 

So, it’s just TK, avoiding eye contact and hiding behind the other adults here to pick up their kid while Mrs. Kozlov walks Izzy and her classmates through the final cool-down stretches of class. 

“And remember,” Mrs. Kozlov says as she walks through the perfectly organized rows of students that are sitting on the floor touching their toes, “I expect you all to be at least thirty minutes early for your recital on Saturday.”

She gives TK a pointed look, even though this is the first time he’s heard of a recital and will one hundred percent not be the person getting Izzy to it, thirty minutes early or not. 

In a sick twist of fate, his phone buzzes in his pocket and Mrs. Kozlov clears her throat and rolls her eyes. 

“Cell phones off in my ballet studio, please,” she snips and TK feels his face flush as he angles his body away and looks at the screen. 

Picked up Evie, Carlos’ text reads, headed your way.

TK sends him a quick thumbs up then shoves his phone deep into his pocket as Mrs. Kozlov finally dismisses the class. She disappears back into her office almost immediately after and TK finally feels confident enough to cut through the crowd toward Izzy who is sitting on the floor, digging through her bag for a pair of sweatpants and sneakers. 

“She really hates you now,” Izzy says as she toes off her ballet slippers and tucks them carefully inside the duffle. 

“That was Carlos’ fault this time. He was the one that texted me.”

“She loves Carlos.”

“That line forms behind me,” TK says as Izzy stands to pull sweatpants on over her tights and steps into her unlaced sneakers. “Tie those,” he instructs and she rolls her eyes. “I’m serious. The last thing I need is you tripping in here and Mrs. Kozlov thinking that I pushed you or something.”

Izzy rolls her eyes and drops back to the floor with a huff, something she keeps doing as she makes a show of tying her shoes. 

TK doesn’t take the attitude personally. She’s on the precipice of being a teen, and he was certainly raising more hell at her age. 

“Happy?” Izzy asks as she shows him her double knotted shoes and TK nods.

“Extremely.” 

He reaches down with both hands and counts it as a major win when she lets herself be helped to her feet. 

She pops up with all the grace of a dancer then hauls her bag over her shoulder.

“My mom already left for her date?”

TK nods. “Carlos picked your sister up from the dojang and they’re on their way to pick us up so we can take you guys home.”

“Is mom going to be out all night?”

“Uhh…” TK stalls, not entirely comfortable thinking of the reasons why his boss would be gone all night. “I don’t think so,” he settles on. “But she did give us money to get pizza for dinner.”

Izzy sighs as TK holds the door open for her. “We had pizza three days ago.”

“We can get something else. Carlos and I aren’t picky.”

She shrugs, but TK knows she’s not forfeiting the decision to her sister, and it’ll probably be a whole thing where they bicker back and forth and Carlos will have to step in to deescalate the situation. 

“Do you know where my mom went?”

“I don’t know for sure,” TK says. “Out to dinner but I’m not sure where.”

Izzy nods and TK gives her a sidelong look as she purposefully drags the toe of her sneaker against the sidewalk as they walk. 

“How are you feeling about that?” He asks, feeling like he’s wading into a minefield, again, except this time there’s real danger.  “Your mom and Pastor Parks? Do you like him?”

Izzy shrugs again. “He’s our pastor. I can’t dislike our pastor.”

TK makes an unsure sound. “I know Carlos doesn’t have too many warm and fuzzy feelings toward the priest he had as a kid and there was a rabbi at the temple that I went to that always smelled like burnt cheese so I think there’s some wiggle room for criticism.”

Izzy smiles but ducks her head to hide it. 

“He’s nice,” she says. “He brings us dessert back.”

“That is nice,” TK agrees, wondering if he and Carlos can get in on that since they’re babysitting. “But I meant—.”

He’s interrupted by Carlos’ laugh sounding from the opposite street corner. Evie is laughing too, and TK can’t tell who said what to make it happen but it’s a stark contrast to the mood on his side of the street. 

The light changes and the walk signal flashes and Evie reaches for Carlos’ hand before they cross the street. 

Their smiles grow when they spot TK and Izzy, and Carlos leans in to kiss his cheek even though they saw each other a half an hour ago. 

“Hi,” Carlos says softly, checking in before he turns to Izzy. “Did you have a good class?”

Izzy nods. “Mrs. Kozlov is going to kill TK.”

Carlos’ eyes widen. “What did you do this time?”

“You texted me,” TK says, poking a finger into Carlos’ chest. “I was going unnoticed until that.”

“It’s impossible not to notice you,” Carlos says quickly and TK rolls his eyes. 

[xydamcg]

Newest member 3

Ghost x f character

Cw: character minor injury, blood, violence

Summary: Two wrongs don’t make it right.

Pt 1 Pt 2

“Comms check..” Tyliu sighed as she adjusted her short dress for the hundredth time in the last hour. “Copy.” Ghost grumbled in her ear, she nodded even though he couldn’t see her which she thought. His eyes in fact followed her around the crowded room from where he stood. Their mission was to obtain information about a missile location that was being held by a warlord and the only way to do that was to get upstairs which was blocked by guards. The warlord Rassan Brudda had been hosting a grand party that Price managed to nab invitation to under Alias’ for her and ghost. She was posing as Jasmine Kylev and her happy husband Scott Kylev (Ghost), recently married no kids just wanting to party with a big warlord. Ty hummed as she walked the perimeter of the dance floor a glass of wine in her hand, her long obsidian hair was down to her waist. It kept getting caught on the sequins on her green dress. Laswell picked out the attire, she could of been kinder to Ty when doing so. “The guards at the stairs switch every ten minutes you have three until they switch and a two minute window to get into those double doors unseen.” Ghost spoke into the comm, Ty’s eyes drifting to the stairs case where the guards stood post. “These stairs are the only way up?” She asked hiding her lips behind her glass. “Unless you can fly.” He remarked causing her to raise her head seeing the upper level over head.

She admired the crystal chandeliers trying to think of a quick distraction. "Watch my six.." she told him quietly as she took a deep breath, why was she so nervous all of a sudden. She felt her stomach twist with nervousness. "Eyes on you." As she looked out at the sea of people she immediately spotted the black ski mask worn by none other than ghost himself. She sent his a quick wink before she stumbled toward the guards resting at the bottom of the stairs. Tripping over her own feet she dropped the glass that use to hold her wine, the glass shattering against the ground. "Oh gosh silly me.." she slurred as she grabbed onto a guard for support. "These shoes are killing me." she groaned as she lifted her leg to take off her heel, the guard holding her up as she put her weight against him. "Yeshi, break time. Sit her on the steps until the next guards come." the other guard spoke as a waiter cleaned the floor. "here you sit right here, I'll send someone to come help you to your car." he told her as she giggled still removing her shoes. "You're so kind! Your boss will be hearing about this, promotion time!" Ty cheered as she patted his chest with a stupid grin.

He shook his head at her before heading off with his buddy, finally getting her heels off she pushed them to the side before carefully standing and checking around for any extra eyes. Finding none she moved up the large staircase quickly and crept through the double doors finding Rasaan’s office at the end of a different hall–thankfully no gaurds. 

Entering his office she cleared the room before making her way to his desktop computer, removing one of her earrings she inserted into the USB port as if it was a flash drive. The earring blinked as it bypassed the security system unlocking the computer. “Ghost I'm in, how are we looking down there?” she questioned as she started opening files so the flash drive could pick up any encryptions. “Smooth sailing down here, the next set of guards are taking their positions. ETA for you?” He informed her. Her eyes drifted to the loading bar at the bottom of the screen. “Two minutes max..” she hummed her fingers flying around the keyboard as she pulled up emails and manually installed a virus so Rasaan’s computer would crash as soon as she logged out. They wouldn't know what happened and when they did know she'd be long gone. “Make it a minute, I think they know something is up.” Ghost ordered, the edge in his voice meant something was up. Ty cursed softly as she looked at the loading bar slowly inch to 100%, she was starting to sweat profusely, her anxiety triggering her leg to

bounce. “You have two ops inbound on your position.” Ghost notified, the download wasn’t finished yet. She needed more time, standing from the chair she rummaged through the desk drawers finding a letter opener. It would have to do for now as a weapon, tip toeing to the doors she pressed her back to the wall as they opened. Ty took a steady breath as two guards entered the room, they hadn't noticed her yet as she was concealed behind the open door. “Avery how copy?” Ghost called out in her ear causing one of the guards to look in her direction. Damn it Ghost! Tyliu kicked the door closed as she lunged forward, taking his arm reaching for his gun and kneeing him in the crotch, her arm whipping forward as she threw the letter opener into the other guard's throat. Ty let out a grunt as she felt a punch land to her gut nearly knocking the wind out of her. She quickly tugged the guard’s arm behind her back and looped her arm around his neck while collecting his jaw in her grasp. The momentum of her twisting her body and pulling his head in the opposite direction let a sickening crack noise echo into the room. Dropping his body with a pant she grimaced as pain shot from her torso, she struggled to catch her breath she moved back toward the desk. Her prayer was answered as she saw the flashdrive was at 100%. 

“Ghost..where are you?” she asked, pulling the earring from the computer and placing it back into her ear. “By the stairs waiting, but they know something isn’t not right. You have two more in bound. You need to get out of there Avery before they call back up.” He seemed more on edge than earlier, Ty quickly looked around for either an exit or a hiding spot. Finding no place to hide she headed for the nearby window quickly sticking her head out. “Get the car ready.” She told him as she climbed out onto the small ledge. Ty pushed the door closed with her foot before hearing ghost crackling over the comm. “What are you going to do?” Rolling her eyes, she balanced herself carefully along the side of the building. “Ghost please..” she begged, feeling gravity pull at her, while the ground opened its arms to catch her.

Getting no response she sighed in relief, she didn't need him throwing her off focus, the ledge barely held her full foot. And she really didn't want to be a pancake. Seeing a ladder that led from the roof to the ground she inched to the edge of the ledge before dragging her sweaty palms along her sharp sequin dress. Calming her nerves she jumped, just barely latching onto the metal bars. Quickly descending the ladder she landed crouched in the grass peeking out toward the congested driveway where Ghost waited. Ty noticed no guards outside quite yet so she sprinted across the large yawn only to make it halfway across before the main doors to Rassan’s home flew open revealing guards yelling and pointing at her. “Shit!’ she groaned as she ran faster, sliding over the hood of a parked car just in enough time to miss bullets whizzing by her head.

Ghost pulled up in front of her as she landed on the other side, throwing the passenger door open with ease. “Get in!’ He didn't have to tell her twice as she dived into the vehicle. Ghost didn’t miss a beat as he pulled off leaving a cloud of smoke in their wake. The car door snapped closed as he made a sharp right turn off the property. Ty panted as she laid across the low middle console, her head resting in Ghost’s lap, she hadn’t moved since she dived into the car. “You alright?” Ghost questioned looking down at her for a moment before the road once more. Ty shook her head causing him to glance down at her for a split second. “Can’t c-catch my b-breath.” she stuttered as her breaths grew uneven. Ghost shifted slightly under her, gently pushing her long silky hair from her flushed face. He rolled down the passenger window to get her to cool down. “Ty you gotta relax, focusing on calming down.” He instructed as he placed his clothed hand on her cheek, closing her eyes where she focused her mind elsewhere. She focused on the cool wind from the open window, how it ruffled her hair and cooled down her hot body, she focused on ghost’s thighs and the warmth they emitted.

And the last thing her mind was on was Ghost’s finger gently rolling over her cheek. Up, IN, Down, OUT. Soon enough her breathing had evened out and even slowed signaling she was asleep or getting there. “Avery..” Ghost called down to the woman in his lap. “Hm?” She hummed softly before she opened her eyes, seeing him looking at the road. “Better?” he asked. As her senses came back she realized where exactly she was. There was no way she was in his lap right now?! Ty slowly sat up and positioned herself in the passenger seat as she rolled the window up to keep her hair from blowing everywhere. “Yes.” she confirmed as she crossed her arms over her chest, her face twisting up as the pain from earlier came back. That fucker punched her hard, Ghost seemed to notice as he eyed her for a moment. “Are you hurt?” 

Yeah about a couple things. “No, just sore from nearly being obliterated by a single punch.” She said smartly, she hadn’t meant for it to come out like that. He didn’t respond, which didn’t help with her incoming annoyance. “Why’d you do that?” She asked as she glared out the window. “What?” he asked looking over at her, quickly turning her toward him to catch her gaze she sneered. “Why didn’t you listen to my order not to breach yet last night?” She specified causing Ghost to place his other hand on the wheel, dropping the other. “I told you why already. Do you need me to say it again?” Of course she didn’t, it just didn’t make sense defying her order when the whole squadron was behind them; counting on them.

“Look I've lost some good people in the past because an idiot soldier like you didn't want to listen to orders I've given them, I don't just give them because I can but because I don't want to have our asses handed to us out in the field. So excuse me Mr. Macho man if it hurts your ego to be ordered around by someone on the same level as you.” Ty grumbled angrily, her eyes burning holes into the side of that stupid mask he was wearing. “You’re a serious fucking brat Avery you know that?” He asked, causing her mouth to drop. “Excuse me?” she asked in disbelief.

“You heard me loud and clear Lieutenant, a brat. You’re so far up your own ass you wouldn’t be able to tell day from night. You think you’re the only person to lose good people? You’re not. Why do you think I go alone? I don't need another one of my men’s deaths on my conscience either. So lay off Avey, I have my reasons for how I do things out there.” She didn’t reply, simply pulling her eyes from him and back to the window. She hadn't expected to get any response out of him let alone one with such rage, she guessed this time she was in the wrong, saying something that was out of line and inconsiderate and ignorant. 

@ellouisa17

[fawnandshadows]

Fawn Fest - Hiking

​​Prompt: With hiking, I feel like Lainey would be a reluctant hiker. So Azriel has to work extra hard to make it fun for her....I see this as being set in the same universe as my Comfy Night fic...

Happy Birthday @nikethestatue!!! I hope you have an AMAZING, AMAZING day!!! You were one of the first people that welcomed me into this fandom, and you've made the experience so amazing for me. I hope you have the best day <3

Word Count: 1.4

Warnings: None

“So,” Elain said, trying to catch her breath as she put one foot in front of the other. Chilled air invading her lungs. “This is what you do for fun?” 

She vaguely registered Azriel’s chuckle as he hiked in front of her, undoubtedly slowly down his pace to accommodate her, and occasionally grabbing hold of a branch to lift it above her head or moving debris out of her way. 

“Not enjoying yourself?” Azriel asked in a low voice, not bothering to hide his amusement. It irked Elain to know that he wasn’t nearly as winded as she was — not that he should be. Azriel practically lived outdoors, and Elain never ventured very far from her garden. Or Velaris. In theory she loved the idea of a hike, but she always found herself drawn more to the comforts of the outdoors: her garden, a cozy fire in the autumn evenings, a stroll through the city. And she knew, logically, that the views from wherever they’re going will be picturesque…but she didn’t understand why they couldn’t take a car to get there. 

“I’m enjoying myself some,” Elain said, stepping over a tree root that wanted to trip her, and accepting the hand that Azriel offered her. “I would just be enjoying myself more if I could breathe.” 

Azriel laughed at that and dropped her hand — Elain immediately found herself missing its warmth, and she didn’t want to dwell too long on the fact that her hand felt empty without his. 

“We’re almost there, El.” Azriel smiled and shook his head, continuing to take long strides up the hill. 

“You know,” Elain said, following in his footsteps. “My legs are way smaller than yours, so I’m pretty sure that means I’m taking double the amount of steps that you are, and obviously I’m working way harder than you. Which is why I’m out of breath and you’re not.”

Elain looked up long enough to see his shoulders jumping up and down as he tried to stifle his laughter, and Elain glared at his back. 

The only reason she rolled out of bed at four this morning was because of Azriel. If anybody else wanted her to go trekking up some hill on a cold November morning she would have laughed in their face — she would have apologized after the fact, but she would have laughed. 

But Azriel wasn’t anybody. He was her best friend. 

Everyone close to her knew that she wasn’t the nicest in the morning, but Azriel had brought Elain her signature Dunkin Donuts order and tied her shoes for her because Elain was too busy nursing her coffee. Her hair was in disarray, unbrushed, as Azriel placed a purple knit cap on her head and wrapped her plaid scarf around her neck. Dressing her because she couldn’t think beyond the piping hot liquid in her hands.

“We’re almost there, Elain,” Azriel repeated, smiling at her over his shoulder, and Elain hated how good he looked in the blue, early morning light. No dark smudges under his eyes. His skin was perfectly even and tanned — not pale and splotchy like hers most likely was. 

“If you say so.” Elain mumbled and looked towards the ground, hoping he thought the pink on her cheeks was from the chilled air or her exhaustion and not her body reacting to his beauty. 

The only sounds they heard were their feet crunching the leaves on the dirt path they hiked, the birds chirping in the trees, and the heavy pants of Elain’s breathing. Azriel was weirdly stealthy, Elain thought, she didn’t even think she could hear his footfalls on the path. 

A gust of wind rustled the leaves on the trees, and Elain hugged her sweatshirts closer into her body. Technically, it was Azriel’s sweatshirt. One that he had left at her apartment years ago and Elain had laid claim on it — he smiled every time she wore it. 

Azriel, of course, looked completely unaffected by the cold wind. 

“We’re almost there.” Azriel said with excitement, and Elain couldn’t help but roll her eyes. 

“I’ve heard that before,” Elain hollered up at him (somehow the distance between them grew stronger). “You keep saying those words, and I don’t think it means what you think it means.” 

This time Azriel gave a full belly laugh, disturbing the early morning serenity of the woods. 

“You almost got that quote correct.” Azriel said, smirking from where he stood in the clearing, and Elain stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I did pretty well, considering the circumstances.”

“And what circumstances are those?”

“Well, I can’t remember the last time I was up this early —”

“I brought you a coffee —” 

Elain held up her hand to stop him and said, “You brought me a medium coffee. Four AM wake up time requires at least an extra large.” 

“You never drink coffee that fast,” Azriel said as he grabbed hold of her hand, pulling her up towards him, and stopping her before she ran into his chest. “It would have cooled off.”

“Then we should have stopped and got another cup —” 

“Then you would have had to pee—” 

“Which I would have done at the restaurant.” 

“And if we did drive-through?”

“Then it’s a good thing we’re in the woods,” Elain threw one arm out, gesturing to the scene around them. “With no one to see me. And I know you keep toilet paper in your backpack when you hike.” 

“You’d pee in the woods?” Azriel asked, his smile growing on his face and exposing his dimples. His dark hair peeking out from his black knit cap, and little puffs of air misted from his mouth in the cold. 

“If I had to.” 

“Then you can thank me for saving you from that fate. With a medium coffee.” 

Elain narrowed her eyes at him. 

“Which leads me to my second point,” She gently poked him in the chest. “You lied about the hike. You said it would be gentle. Beginner, I think, is the word you used, and you somehow neglected the words ‘uphill’ and ‘miles’.” 

Crowsfeet formed at his eyes from his smile. 

“When we go back it will be downhill.” Azriel said with a cheeky grin and brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, and Elain naturally let her hands move to adjust his beanie. 

“You’re lucky I like you, Az.” Elain shook her head with a smile, some golden hair shaking around her face. 

“I know,” Azriel said in a voice that was a touch too serious, and something fluttered over his sharp features, but before Elain could pinpoint what it was his hazel eyes looked somewhere over his shoulders. “We’re here.” Azriel said, and brough one hand up to Elain’s shoulders and turned her around. 

Her back pressed into his chest, but Elain could barely feel it through the bulk of their sweatshirts. 

Azriel spun her with such a force that it took a second for her vision to clear — but once it did she was able to see the brightest golden-orange and most vivid red painted in the sky, practically screaming at her to wake up so she could enjoy it completely. 

“Oh,” The sound seeped out of her mouth before she even realized it, and her body relaxed into Azriels. “That’s why you always come here.” 

She managed to pull her eyes away from the beauty in front of her, and she wondered if every sunrise was this magical or if Azriel had managed to find the perfect spot for sunrise-watching, and looked over her shoulder at Azriel. 

Instead of watching the sunrise, his eyes were focused on her face. And his warm breath ghosted over her chilly cheeks and Elain found herself melting just a bit. 

“Do you bring all your girls here?” Elain asked, and she intended it as a joke, but it didn’t come out that way. She said it in a breathless, meek voice. 

“No,” Azriel said, looking at her intently. “Just one girl.” 

A flush rushed to her cheeks. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Elain said, finding herself at a crossroads. She could either lean into the desires burning at her skin and press her lips against his, or she could turn and look back at the sun rising over the autumn trees. 

She didn’t want her first kiss with Azriel to be marred with stale coffee breath and sweaty-sweatshirts. But she didn’t want to leave his arms just yet. So, she grabbed his hands and used them to wrap his arms around her as she turned back to look at the sunrise. 

“I’m cold.” Elain said, even though she felt warm and cozy tucked against his body. 

“Then it’s a good thing I’m here.” Azriel said and placed his chin on top of her head. 

“Always.” Elain replied, smiling. 

____

tagging: @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @alwayssara @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes @magnolia-blossom87 @sheena-beene @nivem565@casuallivi

[idiotwithanipad]

Grief: Humphrey

A alternative of this:

Alison and Mike made one of their annual stays at Button House, their old family home, now a bustling hotel. They made their cheerful greetings with the receptionist and parted ways with a smile, Mike headed off to the kitchen to greet his old friend, now a member of the kitchen staff, while Alison headed up to the Higham Suite to greet her old friends. 

She pushed the door open, optimistic to see the old faces again, but as she stepped inside, their faces were withdrawn and sullen. They sat in silence with their heads bowed, like somebody had died. 

"Hi... Guys? What's wrong?" Alison brushed her greying hair from her brow and placed her suitcase down at her side. Robin dropped his hand from the front of his furs and treaded over to Alison. His brow arched and his lips parted to speak. 

“Stompy..go up to the stars last night…” Robin explained, mournfully. He blinked back tears and set his jaw as Pat’s hand came up to rub against his back. Alison’s eyes widened and she cracked her jaw open.

“Amy? You mean Amy’s gone?” Alison asked, shocked. The group all nodded and sighed, Robin turned away from Alison and grit his teeth.

“We were all having such fun, but then she- just disappeared…” Kitty remembered, her tears brimming. Alison looked amongst everyone and gawked as though her tongue had been caught in a mouse trap. 

“But- she’d only been here for five years..how would she?-“ 

“It happen straight away sometime. Other time it take long time…” Robin explained, his gritty voice seemed laced with sadness. Alison still couldn’t grasp the thought of such a recent ghost suddenly just leaving without a trace.

“But she was-…where’s Humphrey?” Alison fretted as she looked between everybody. The group all seemed to draw in breaths at the mention of the nobleman. Fanny and The Captain practically bowed their heads. 

"Guys, where is he?" Alison asked again, more stern. Fanny stepped forward, her hands clasped tightly at her middle. 

"He's in the library, Alison. He wished not to be disturbed, given the nature of their bond..." Fanny spoke, solemnly. 

The ghosts each nodded, understanding, yet not quite grasping the pain which coursed through Humphrey's heart. How long would it be before one of them shrugged off his mourning and used him as a football or a piñata? Smacked him around like a deflated balloon? He wanted to remain alone, because that's what he was used to. 

The strange girl had checked in with her mother five years ago, completely and blissfully unaware of her ghostly visitors. He had once again, been neglected underneath the East Wing bedroom's bed. His lone head seeing nothing but shoes come and go from the room. 

One pair in particular caused him to do a double take; the thick soles making him wonder how it felt to walk on shoes that bulky. Did it hurt? Would you trip over yourself? If your foot slipped to the side, would you break your ankle? 

After a long and dull afternoon of resting idly under the bed, dust gathering around him, he saw the boots enter the room. Whoever wore them took a seat on the bed as they dangled a few inches from the wooden floorboards. The crack of a can soon followed. Then silence. Then came a coughing, and a gagging, and a gasping. 

The boots staggered to the floor again, and tried to make their way to the door, only for their wearer to stumble back and fall to the floor. He still couldn't see who it was from his position, but he could hear them. The familiar sound of a soul leaving their body. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of light. 

But all that came was a replica of those huge boots twitching and peeling themselves away from their dead shell. He'd called out and cheerfully introduced himself, but the young girl dressed from head to toe in strange, dark clothing, only gawked at him in horror and shuffled back away from the bed. 

That was their first meeting. An unfortunate one, but one that started their long time of getting to know each other. Humphrey hadn't been neglected as much after she came along. He was never left of the stone floor, or forgotten about on a bookshelf, or kicked, smacked or thrown. She wouldn't have it. 

She'd taught him many things, and he'd taught her much more. He truly felt like she was the daughter he never had. Now she was gone, a distant memory scattered to the winds. 

"Alright. You stay here. I need to go find him" Alison spoke, stepping towards the door. They each nodded and bit their lips, briefly, Robin Rose his furred hand up to his face and wiped at his eye. 

Alison made her way downstairs and avoided eye contact with anyone just in case they struck up a conversation. Luckily, the library laid dormant, except for the Tudor, settled on the window seat, staring down at the floor. 

Alison slowed down and knocked her knuckle against one of the bookshelves. 

"Humphrey? It's Alison..." She called to him gently. He looked up and pointed his finger, seemingly about to dismiss her. 

"It's alright, Humphrey. It's just me. I told the others not to bother us..." 

Humphrey's hand dropped back down to his lap, lifelessly.

"I suppose you know then?..." He asked, quietly, his gaze returning to the ground. Alison stepped closer, sliding her hands into her trouser pockets. 

"I do" She confirmed, sadly. 

The Tudor's brow creased and his lip twitched. 

"She's gone..." 

Alison stood at Humphrey's side, looking down at him with sincere pity. 

"She actually joined in for that Karaoke thing last night. For the first time, she sung in front of us. Then- whoosh..." He articulated with an upward flourish of his hands before he dropped them back down. Alison nodded, she closed her eyes; the hurt in his voice was nothing short of heartbreaking. 

If he wasn't a ghost, Alison would've patted him on the shoulder or hugged him. 

"Humphrey- Amy's in a better place now-" 

"How can you be sure? She'd had a lot of painful moments in her life, she told me she liked it 'ere, what if the people who caused the pain are where she is now? What if I can't 'elp 'er?!" He fretted, pinching at his brow. 

"I would've bared the burden for 'er, I really would-..." Humphrey choked up, he leant forward and dropped his head into his hands. 

Alison paused, the foreign sound of the once chatty and beaming Tudor, though occasionally just a talking head, reduced to tears was gut wrenching. 

"I know, Humphrey" Alison comforted, sitting down beside him on the window seat. She held her hands in her lap and stared ahead, unable to imagine the pain Humphrey felt; only in nightmares had she ever lost Mia, she couldn't bare to think what the real ordeal would be like. 

Humphrey righted himself and leaned back, his hands still clutching his head until he was upright; supporting it so that it didn't drop off his shoulders and thump to the floor between his feet. A lone yet heavy tear trickled down his cheek, he never bothered to swipe it away. 

"I know you loved her, Humphrey" Alison spoke, nodding slowly. 

"Like she was my own..." He retorted. Alison clasped her hands together and looked over at him. 

"The others are struggling too-" Alison was about to continue before Humphrey's hands fell down sloppily against his knee. 

"Oh, that's right. Those with legs struggle the most, don't they?" Humphrey spat, venom boiling in his voice. 

"They don't get batted around like a football all day, do they? What do they know? Amy was more to me than a friend. She was- there. She helped me out, a lot. Even when she COULDN'T find my stupid body, she kept me company" Humphrey mourned, before raising his brows and flicking his eyes toward the ceiling. 

"That lot would just place me somewhere and go along their merry way. I could be in the same place for weeks, did anyone even stop to say hello? No they didn't" Humphrey grumbled, tears forming in his eyes again. 

"But Amy did. She took the time to talk to a washed up old bloke like me"

Alison froze, feeling torn between her able bodied friends upstairs and the grieving Tudor. 

"Aside from Kitty and the Savage, none of the others paid Amy any mind. The Captain and Lady B even chastised Amy for her clothes, a lot." Humphrey growled, doing his best to grip at the edge of the window seat. His blood still boiled over the one comment thrown at Amy by The Captain. 'A juvenile delinquent with the attitude of a harpy'.

Alison didn't want to believe that there had been misunderstandings and judgement between the group at any point in time, but the depth in Humphrey's voice made any slither of hope wave from Alison's mind. 

"But they-" Alison started, before Humphrey cut her off. 

"No... I won't hear it" He rose from the window seat and approached the bookshelf to their left. A book had been set at an awkward angle and had fallen slightly, leaning at an angle which created a sheltering space between the book and the shelf. 

Alison watched as Humphrey reached his hand up and clutched his hair, pulling his head from his body and placing it up underneath the leaning book, his face out of sight, his hair facing the rest of the world. 

"What are you doing?" Alison asked as she got to her feet and rushed to the shelf.

"Tell that lot to save their tears, they ain't got the right to shed 'em..." Humphrey said, slowly, coldly and full of pain. Alison could tell their conversation was done; she'd scarcely get anywhere with him in this state, not that she could blame him. 

Without another word, Alison slowly turned and walked away as the customary ten seconds had passed, Humphrey's body shifted into 'roaming' mode, when it became aware of it's missing head and wandered aimlessly. 

Just as Alison reached the doorway to the silent library, she could barely hear the sound of Humphrey's mournful sobs and sniffles from where his head remained hidden beneath the book. 

"Well? Did he say anything, is he alright?" Pat asked, hope brimming behind his spectacles, yet still very much as depressed as the others. Alison gently closed the door behind her, unable to make eye contact with any of them. The group waited with baited breath. 

"He misses Amy, so much" Alison commented. 

"But he doesn't want to talk yet. He still needs time, its- it's a big loss for him" Alison nodded. The rest of them agreed and blinked back their tears. 

"Yes. It is a big loss, we'll all miss Amy" Kitty said, voice crackling with sadness. 

Later that , while the ghosts and Mike slept, Alison sat up in bed. She couldn't bring herself to sleep. But the soft sound of footsteps outside her room alerted her even more. They were slow, clumsy, almost like a drunk with tape stuck over their eyes. 

She recognized them. She headed over to the door and opened up slowly, carefully, trying not to wake her friends or Mike. Down the hall, hobbled Humphrey's headless body. It made it's way through the corridors to get to the East Wing. 

Alison bundled her dressing gown tighter around herself and followed quietly, watching it's every move. The headless body bumbled it's way to the East Wing, seemingly on a mission. 

The East Wing bedroom lie unoccupied, the headless Tudor passing through the door with ease. Alison bent down and peered through the keyhole to make sure there were no sleeping guests. She tried to foorhandle. Locked. 

As she peered back through the keyhole, just for a moment, she made out the shape of the Tudor's body lingering, his hands braced before itself as if expecting to fall at any point. It's upper body shifting forward as if trying to see something at its feet, and it's arms dropped lower. 

It took some time, but Alison managed to get her aching body to an angle where she could see what the body was doing. It stood, by the bottom right bed post, seemingly facing the wooden floorboards beneath it. Over the spot where Amy had died. 

[redqueenphoenix]

State Championship (TWD Fan Fic Part 2)

State Championship Part 2

(A TWD Fan Fiction)

I do not own any of the rights to The Walking Dead, nor do I own any of the characters mentioned from here on in, other than Victoria Hawkins. Some situations have been changed and some people may have been switched in this alternate universe. 

All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.

Coach Negan Smith X Female OC

Word Count: 1697

~*~

Victoria’s mind still reeled as they pulled into the parking lot of the college that state championships were being held. Negan still stayed at the front of the bus as they came to a stop. 

“Alright, ladies it’s game time. Let’s give ‘em hell.” Negan said as he smacked the back of the seat he was standing at. “We have one shot at this. Be on your game!” He made his way over to his gym bag looking at Victoria with a devil’s smirk. 

Reaching across the seats, she grabbed her gym bag and waited to get off the bus with the rest of her team. As she made eye contact with Coach Negan her lips began to tingle from the encounter a little bit ago. She followed as the doors to the bus opened in the parking lot of the state college. 

“Holy shit.” Barbie gasped as she took in the massive amount of cars that were in the parking lot to watch them play. “This is insane.”

“Yeah it is. This is like triple what comes to our home games.” Samantha laughed as her eyes got wide.

“It's the state championships. We’re here because we are in the finals. We have one team to stomp before we take that title home, ladies.” Negan laughed, “don’t get distracted.”

“Yeah, Victoria. Don’t get distracted.” Barbie laughed as she nudged her friend's arm. 

“Let’s go ladies.” Coach Negan motioned for them to follow him into the double doors of the building to the gymnasium that they were going to compete in. 

Victoria pointed to the locker room with their home banner on it. “In here ladies. We got ten minutes to game time.” She sighed in relief as she was able to put a bit of distance between Negan and her. That kiss fried her circuits and it was all she could think about for the rest of the trip. She had to get out of that mindframe and get in the game. This game couldn’t get away from her over a stupid kiss.

The team made their way in dropping their bags and started getting ready for the game. Barbie, Samantha and Aubrie naturally made their way over to Victoria. 

“So…” Barbie grinned as she slipped her gym clothes out of her bag, “what’s the special game plan that Coach had to talk to you about?”

Instantly Victoria’s cheeks turned red as she turned away from the girls. “Normal game plan.”

“Yeah, fuckin’ right.” Samantha squealed as she caught the blush. “You didn’t even talk about a game plan. You and the coach were neckin’!”

Victoria threw her shirt at Samantha, “so what. I’m an adult!” She grabbed her gym shirt, slipping it on and tying it off in the back with a ponytail holder. 

“Don’t get defensive, Tori, save that for the game.” Aubrie laughed as she finished changing and was slipping on her gym shoes. “It’s fine,” She shot a look at Barbie and Samantha, “as long as you're both happy and single, you're golden! Do what you do.”

“Wait, is Coach single?” Barbie asked as she tied her hair back.

Victoria’s eyes went wide, she’s never seen a ring nor has there been anyone come in to see him while he was working. But she knew nothing of his personal life. “Oh, my god…” She gasped as she touched her lips.

Samantha burst out laughing, “you seriously think I would let you ruin your life like that. He’s single. I did my research.”

Victoria sighed in relief as she finished getting ready, slipping into her gym shorts, gym shoes and tying her hair back. She felt a sudden surge of energy as she heard music start up in the gym. “Ladies, we got this!” Her voice carried over the chaos of the locker room. 

The ladies cheered and jumped around as they hyped themselves up. Heading for the door as they heard their team was announced. 

Victoria was the first out the door with her famous smile and bubbly personality as she led her team to their side of the court. 

Coach Negan was sitting on the bottom of the bleachers with a clipboard when they ran out. Standing he cheered with the rest of the crowd, heading over to the girls. “You guys got this. Their best player isn’t here today. Some sort of injury.” He stepped back to the sidelines to watch as the ladies took their side of the court. 

The music pulsed as the other team took their places as well, heading to the net to shake Victoria’s hand along with her team before the game began.

The game was down to the wire as Victoria and her team huffed and played their hardest, giving them the point lead. Out of the corner of her eye she kept seeing Coach Negan pacing the sideline like a caged animal. She held her position in the front while the opposing team got ready to serve. 

“Trash.” The blonde in front of her snarled over the net. “You play like trash.”

Victoria’s jaw fell open as the comment slid into her ears. The woman in front of her was one of those chai tea starbucks types. She assumed that she was on the team because her daddy paid for her. This boiled Victoria’s blood as she worked her ass off to get where she was. 

The ball sailed over the net towards the middle of the court, Barbie ran for it, bumping it back up into the air towards Aubrie. 

Victoria smirked at the girl as Aubrie set her up perfectly. Using the anger she felt to her advantage as she ran for the ball, spiking it hard over the net. The satisfying noise of the blonde’s scream made her smile.

“Oh my god! Stephanie!” One of the other ladies yelled as the blonde landed on her ass holding her now bleeding nose. 

“Game!” The referee yelled as the ball rolled on the other side of the court. 

“That’s my fuckin’ girl!” Coach Negan yelled from the sidelines as they took the game. Jogging to the team that surrounded Victoria and pushed his way to her.

“We won?” Victoria’s face was one of complete disbelief, she thought surely what she just did was a foul. The girls rushed her and cheered around her. “How the hell did we win?”

“That blonde girl tried to back up to hit it and it bounced back from her hands. We fuckin’ won!” Samantha yelled as she jumped around. 

Flashes went off in the crowd as the referee motioned for Coach Negan and Victoria to walk over to accept the trophy. As they held it up everyone cheered and yelled for them. 

A local news reporter came over who was covering the match with a smile, “how does it feel to have the state championship title?” He shoved a microphone into Victoria’s face.

Victoria beamed as she looked over to Negan and her team, “we wouldn’t be here without our wonderful Coach! This feeling is amazing!”

He turned the microphone to Coach Negan as he motioned her off to her team with the trophy so they could have their pictures taken. 

After about a dozen or so pictures the girls finally made their way to the locker room. The energy of the team was through the roof as they chattered and changed into their street clothes.

“You knocked her on her ass.” Barbie said as she shipped her shirt on. “What the hell did she say to you? I can tell you aimed that shit at her face.”

“She said I played like trash.” Victoria laughed as she slipped her jeans back on. She pulled her hair down and shook it out.

“Get out, that preppy whore?” Samantha chuckled, “If anyone played like trash it was her with her daddy’s money. She had no talent.” She slipped her street shoes on. 

Aubrie peeked around the corner of the lockers, “I know this is totally off topic, but do we know where we are staying tonight?”

“Some hotel. Bet you it’s gonna be shady as hell too.” Barbie laughed as she stuffed her clothes back in her bag.

Victoria rolled her eyes as she finished dressing and slipped her headphone back around her neck. “Well either way, I’m grateful we don’t have to sit on that bus for two more hours.”

“True that!” Samantha chimed in as she grabbed her bag, “we should do something tonight to celebrate.”

Aubrie checked her hair in the mirror, “like what?”

“See what the night life is like here!” Samantha said as she smirked, “we’re all old enough to see if the clubs here are any better than back home.

“I don’t know about that.” Victoria gave a very questioning look to her friends. 

“Fuckin’ live a little girl, or are you worried you’d upset Coach Daddy.” Barbie grinned as she grabbed her bag, “I’m in!”

“I’ll think about it.” Victoria laughed as she made her way out of the locker room with the team in line.

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ talkin’ about. You ladies killed it!” Coach Negan beamed as he walked out and headed to the bus as a group. 

“Told you we would.” Victoria smirked, “did you doubt me?”

“Not for a moment, doll.” He motioned for her to get on the bus. 

Victoria chuckled to herself as she tossed her bag into the seat it was before and slid back into the seat where Coach Negan was sitting with her. She noticed that his lips tugged into a devilish grin watching where she sat. 

As the ladies all settled in, Negan leaned into the bus driver and told him where to go. Leaning against the first seat up in the front, glancing back at Victoria with a smile.

~*~

Part 3

[mothmanismyuncle]

I posted 20,403 times in 2022

121 posts created (1%)

20,282 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@warmthseeker

@damatris

@sillyjimjam

@definitely-not-indecisive

@ghost-in-a-player-piano

I tagged 1,424 of my posts in 2022

#geraskier - 56 posts

#the witcher - 48 posts

#jaskier - 44 posts

#geralt - 33 posts

#ref - 20 posts

#geralt of rivia - 19 posts

#q - 10 posts

#art - 9 posts

#tma - 7 posts

#cryptidqueueflip - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#like everybody gotta quit gatekeeping. i. a gay man. would rather have 10000 ‘straight women’ ‘’fetishise’’ me than 1 person feel unloved

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i hope im never behind the wheel if i see this shit in the wild bc i blacked out ugly laughing

24 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

#4

modern au. geraskier, established relationship. just a little comfort for the bard boy after a miserable day at work.

xoxoxo!!!

❦

geralt looked up from his book when he heard the door click shut and his husband peel off a soaked jacket. shoes were kicked; a bag was dropped; still, jaskier said nothing.

usually, geralt starts hearing his husband’s car radio from the moment it enters their neighbourhood. the quiet is alarming, to say the least, so geralt turns his book over and lays it on the couch, putting his reading glasses on his head.

“jaskier?” he calls trotting into the laundry room, where jaskier is shucking off his sodden work uniform.

“hello, love,” he replies huskily. “it’s raining.”

“it is,” geralt agrees. he turns the dryer back on, peering at the load of towels bouncing around. “why don’t you take a nice shower? warm you up,”

“‘kay,” jaskier acquiesced, slinking into the bathroom. geralt frowned after him.

typically, getting jaskier to shower right after work takes some cajoling, several bribes on both sides, all that.

today, the water turns on without any music to cover the sound, and geralt hears jaskier snuffle to himself before a small, broken sound escapes.

he won’t walk in on his husband crying. he won’t embarrass him when he waited until the shower was on and put on a face for geralt in the laundry room.

that’s what geralt chanted to himself, anyway, while he heaped blankets up on the bed and jogged back into the kitchen.

he took a small container out of the cabinet and double checked the instructions. only a bit of water and a minute in the microwave, and jaskier would have a sweet treat waiting for him in the nest geralt was building.

he gathered some water bottles, a sandwich, and jaskier’s favourite of geralt’s tee shirts that geralt thankfully had to save from the hamper. jaskier didn’t have geralt’s nose, but he could still scent his husband and it tended to calm him down plenty.

til his dying breath, geralt would deny that he rolled around on the nest blankets to make it warm and smell like him, but it was the quickest way and without music or the promise of geralt joining him, jaskier could be done in moments.

when geralt was satisfied that the clean blankets smelled a little more like home, he went to get a warm towel out of the dryer and swaddle his husband up for a trip to the nest.

he found jaskier sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees.

he couldnt say anything that didnt feel too trite, too simple, too shallow, for what that image made his heart do in his chest. he simply got undressed and sat down next to him.

“bad day,” jaskier breathed. geralt, with soft hands and a softer heart, took the spray from the wall and began to wash jaskier’s hair.

jaskier began to cry again, but this time quietly. jaskier hated it when he cried, hated how much he cried, so geralt merely began humming for him while he threaded his fingers through auburn locks to remove the soap.

“i’m an artist, aren’t i?” jaskier finally asked.

“of course,” geralt said, cupping jaskier’s cheek to get him to look him in the eye. “of course you are. one of the best i’ve ever known.”

“i… geralt, i’m working at a fast food joint. i’m getting sandwiches thrown at me by customers, i’m getting barked at by my boss. i haven’t composed in almost a week.”

“you don’t have to always be writing to be an artist,” geralt said, sitting back on his haunches. “am i a witcher?”

“of course,”

“right now? when i’m sitting in the shower with you?”

“… quit it,” jaskier replied, cottoning on to geralt’s meaning and pushing his little head into geralt’s chest.

“i’m a witcher when i wake, and when i go to sleep, and every second in between.”

“that’s different,” jaskier mumbled as best he could with the hot water pouring down the back of his neck. geralt only held him, rocking him back and forth ever so slightly.

See the full post

26 notes - Posted June 20, 2022

#3

no need to measure for curtains, he said

they’ll surely be fine, he said

no way in hell they’ll turn out to be some kinda cock-height peep show for the entire main street of your hometown, he also said, strangely specific and also even stranger, wrong

29 notes - Posted March 13, 2022

#2

For the hurt comfort list? "you are what's important right now" with whoever you like. Thanks!

jaskier could’ve blinked and missed it. he almost wished he had; on one hand, he was on his feet before geralt even hit the ground.

on the other, the image of the kikimore’s leg bursting through his boyfriend wouldn’t stop replaying every time he closed his eyes.

his badass boyfriend that lopped its head off right after, mind, but still.

“don’t move!” jaskier chided again, handing geralt his water. “i’m right here, love. i’m ready and willing.”

“i just wanted a drink,” geralt pouted. well, okay. less of a physical, facial, or vocal pout and more of a slight tightness around the eyes, but this was jaskier. he knew geralt better than geralt knew geralt.

“and i just want you to get back to feeling better.” he countered.

“you can’t sit here and hand me my water all night, jaskier. you have an audience downstairs and you’ll get bored.”

“none of those people matter to me. you are what’s important to me right now.” jaskier replied, folding himself into his witcher’s side gently. “besides, i can think of a few ways to entertain ourselves.”

“i thought you didnt want me to move.”

“for this, you won’t have to.” jaskier said, waggling his eyebrows. “tell me a story?”

geralt burst into surprised laughter before he winced, clutching his chest.

“okay, okay. what do you want to hear?”

jaskier wrapped his arms around geralt, snuggling in close. he could hear the thud of geralt’s heart and feel him breathing, and honestly? that was enough for a simple bard like himself.

“anything, love.” geralt held him with his good arm, resting his cheek on top of jaskier’s head. “anything you’d like.”

71 notes - Posted July 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

jaskier whumpers be like

609 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[starryhoonie]

party favor | c. soobin

—

angst,, established relationship,, 2nd person pov,, lmk if i missed anything

word count: 654

like and reblog!

a/n: smth short and sad sorry ><

—

Things have been tense between you and Soobin as of late. His work keeps him from you most of the time, and when you do see each other it feels dull, like he’s a stranger. The sun was set as you sat staring out the window of your apartment, watching the city lights allowing your mind to wander. It’s your birthday today, you received a mirriad of messages from family members and colleagues wishing you well, but what did it all matter when Soobin hasn’t acknowledged you all day. You cradle your cold legs as you concoct excuses in your mind. Maybe he has a surprise for you or this is all one big prank. Delusion was not a good look for you. 

You snap out of your thoughts when the sound of knocking rings through your ears, your light steps carry you to the door as you swing it open to be met by your boyfriend. He smiles and kisses your forehead making his way into the place.

“Hey baby, just wanted to see you. It's been such a long day, rehearsals ran late and I had a language lesson I almost missed and I met up…” he trails on and makes his way to the kitchen to grab a drink. 

Something catches his eye and he points to the vase on your counter holding carnations.

“Where did those come from?” 

“My dad sent them to me” you smile to yourself as you think of the sweet letter he sent you along with it

“Why?” he chuckles “What's the occasion?”

Your smile falters, his words confirming your suspicions. He really did forget. 

“It’s my birthday…” 

Soobin turns to you, face filled with confusion.

“You're messing with me..” he lets out a cautious laugh.

When you don’t say anything, giving him a blank stare his heart drops, rushing to you quickly reaching for your hand. 

“Baby I- I’m so sorry-”

You yank your hand back, giving him a hurt look. 

“Are you serious” your voice dripping with disgust. 

Just a couple months ago he wouldn’t stop raving about how excited he was for your birthday, how he would shower you in gifts and affection. Now he stands in your home completely oblivious to the event searching for an answer for his forgetfulness. 

“You forgot my birthday…” you say in a barely audible tone, looking at the floor. 

He trips over his words and fumbles with his hands not sure how to approach this. Looking up at him, as tears threaten to fall from your eyes, voice wavering a bit. 

“I just been so busy I lost track of the days, I-I I’m sorry” as you stand silently not knowing what to say, what do you say when your boyfriend forgets your birthday? 

Your silence makes him nervous, as he begins to say anything, words spilling out like water. 

“It’s not my fault I work so hard to please you, I do all of this for you” You give him a look of disbelief. Still staying silent, he doubles down. 

“You don’t appreciate all I do for you” Is he seriously turning this on you?  So hurt you feel a pang of ache in your heart; You want to snap back and call out his bullshit, but you can’t seem to. Turning your back to him holding onto the counter for support as your knees get weak, the sting of tears in your ducts.

“Well maybe it would be better if we went our separate ways” you said in almost a whisper, still loud enough for Soobin to hear. His hands shaking, mouth opening to say something but nothing. He knows he messed up. With your back turned you only hear the knock of Soobins shoes hitting the floor as it gets fainter by the second, and the eventual click of the shutting door. You fall to your knees as tears stream down your face. 

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ohhhkay

So its been an eventful hour

My mom forgot there was a guy coming over to measure the windows again

My dad wasn't home to handle chewby so I had to get her up into her kennel while the guy was measuring the back door

Then I had to come into my room and move anything I wouldn't want knocked over off my desk and open the curtains....where harley was hiding cuz strange person in the house+dog barking=Very Scary situation for harleys

So she ran past me and out of my room. Wasnt sure where she went but I had an anxious pitbull to keep company and harley prefers to be left alone when scared anyway

My dad came home while the guy was measuring my window so chewby started checking her kennel door for weak points for a jailbreak

She found one but was able to restrain herself

It probably helped that I was sitting right outside the door

Dude finally leaves so I let chewby out of the kennel

Harley is not upstairs

Great

Go downstairs and find chewby like this

I may know where harley is

She may be in the chair

GREAT

So I go get a tennis ball

And I put my shoes on

And I get chewby out from under the table and put her harness on her

She keeps trying to go back under the table cuz her best friend* is in a chair and she is Concerned™️ and also wants to play

Get her leash and convince her to go outside with me for a walk (which I was planning on doing anyway before the window guy showed up)

She keeps glancing back at the house the entire time like she's expecting to see harley

She does not

Harley is inside

We walk down to the bridge and back. I experimented with using a ball as a reward for loose leash walking instead of treats

Ball may be too exciting of a reward. She gets excited for treats but not Ball Excited.

I was walking a Bouncing Pitbull.

Who also kept circling me and wrapping me up in the leash and almost tripping me

Alright ball is not gonna work as a reward on walks

Noted

We get near the yard so I have her sit and I drop the leash and throw the ball into the yard for her

Sat on the porch and texted my dad to see if harley was out yet

Ok

Probably safe to let the dog inside

Chewby immediately goes to the chair to look for the cat (while still chewing on the ball)

I look in the chair just to double check

She is indeed not in the chair anymore

Cool. Good.

My mom informs me that she hasn't seen her come upstairs at all

......cool.

Look around downstairs

Don't see her anywhere

I go down to the basement to move my laundry into the dryer and look around a bit for her

The lighting sucks down there and theres a lot of junk so if she is down there its where I cant see her

Great great great

Shes probably not down here

Go look around upstairs

Check all her usual hiding places

Shes not in any of them

Check any other places I think she could hide in

Not there either

OKAY

So mercedes magical cat power was teleportation

Apparently harleys is turning invisible

Lovely

Realize I didn't take my anxiety meds this morning

Get those from downstairs and some more tea

Come back to my room and open the window

Decide to just wait

She couldn't have left the house

All the moving around probably isn't helping her be less scared

Sure enough after a couple minutes I hear her tiptoeing into my room

I get her a meaty stick cuz I figured she could use a treat after all that

Have to move very slowly so I don't spook her again

Laid very still in bed while she ate her snack

She spent about 5 minutes kneading her paws on my chest and purring

Still not sure where she was hiding

Just gonna chalk it up to she turned invisible

*harley does NOT share this sentiment. Chewby has yet to catch on.

[bewitchingfanfiction]

Double Life SMP (2022/07/14)

It had come up when they ran into Cleo and Scott collecting materials. It was rude to not stop and have a little conversation.

The next thing Grian knew, he was planning a caving trip with Cleo.

He was kind of excited. The two didn’t get many chances to hang out together, it would be fun to take some time and bond.

At least…that’s what Grian thought.

But as he packed his bag back at home, Scar kept looking at him like he wanted to say something.

“Are you gonna stare at me all day?” Grian teased. “What’s up?”

Scar swallowed hard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Grian…are you sure caving with Cleo is a good idea?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He shrugged, slipping his shoes on.

When he didn’t get a reply right away, he looked up at see Scar shifting around nervously, obviously trying to find the right words.

“It’s just…I mean…Cleo’s a zombie hybrid, you know?”

Grian felt his blood run cold as he looked at Scar with genuine disbelief. “So?”

“Well…” Scar chuckled awkwardly. “I mean, come on. Dark cave…surrounded by other mobs…limited food sources in this world…you get it, right?”

“No.” Grian snapped, eyes narrowing. “I don’t. I really don’t, Scar.”

Scar groaned. “Oh come on, Grian. The second you’re down in the darkness, how do you know Cleo can hold herself back? It’s in her DNA.”

“Her DNA?” Grian hissed in offense. “What does that mean?”

Scar sighed heavily, crossing his arms and looking away from him. “Just…forget it.”

“No go on Scar, tell me about how hybrids have zero self-control!” Grian fumed, standing up and glaring at him.

“That is NOT what I said!” Scar snapped, turning to match Grian’s glare. “We’re in a world where everything is different, including people. Humans can actually lose control of themselves once they’re on red. You expect hybrids to have a chance?”

Grian choked out a gasp. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. This is Cleo we’re talking about Scar, one of our friends!”

“FRIENDS CAN MURDER TOO!” Scar hissed.

Grian’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open in disbelief and hurt.

Scar took a deep breath and looked down. “I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re my soulmate, you know? We have to look out for each other. Back in Hermitland this wouldn’t even be an issue, because we have all sorts of tools to protect ourselves, but here? Here we only have scraps.”

Tears welled up in Grian’s eyes as he looked at Scar with nothing but disappointment.

Scar sighed heavily. “Grian, I’m not saying this to be mean. I just want us to be safe. Just go caving with someone else, anyone else. Hybrids have always had a bad reputation, you know this. Even back in Hermitland, you’ve seen how the villagers would treat Doc when he walked by. Can you really blame them?”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this.” Grian shook his head and went towards the door.

“You won’t even listen to me!” Scar hissed in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air.

Grian looked over his shoulder to sneer at him. “It’s people like you who would donate to hybrid hunting. You take one look at a hybrid and assume they’re bad news. Did you ever stop to think maybe some hybrids can be good?”

“Name one that isn’t Cleo or Doc.” Scar protested, crossing his arms.

Grian dropped his bag and slipped his sweater off, keeping his back to Scar. He hears Scar choke out a gasp.

Giant, incredibly rough scars rested on Grian’s shoulder blades. Anyone who’d known anything about hybrids would know they were wing scars.

“Sorry to break it to you Scar, but your precious soulmate is also a hybrid.” He hissed, slipping his sweater back on.

Scar was stunned. “Wha- why didn’t you say anything!? W-Where are your wings!?”

“I didn’t think it mattered. My wings were torn off by hybrid hunters and probably sold for quite the high price.” He smiled bitterly. “Better be careful Scar, I see idiots and I just, oh I just lose such control over myself, what with my impulsive, uncontrollable hybrid urges.” He mocked.

Scar didn’t stop him when he stormed out this time.

~~~

“Cleo, have you ever had someone…look at you like…like you were different?”

Cleo glanced over from the iron she was digging at to look at Grian curiously. “Different how?”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Like…you’re not human?”

Cleo’s eyes widened. “Well sure, but I mean, I’m not. Not entirely. It’s kind of expected. Why?”

Grian stared at the floor with narrowed eyes. “Scar warned me against going caving with you…because you’re a hybrid.”

“Ah.”

Cleo set her pickaxe in her bag and went over to him. “Well, do you think I’m dangerous?”

“Of course not!” He snapped. “I don’t know how Scar could even think such a thing.”

She sighed. “It happens, Grian. I’m honestly used to it.”

“But that’s so wrong!” He hissed. “And he didn’t even know that his own soulmate was a hybrid. You should’ve seen his face, Cleo. When he learned, he just…froze, as if I just told him someone died.” Grian complained, collapsing against the cave wall to sulk. “He looked at me like I was…wrong.”

Cleo hummed, leaning against the wall next to him. “You know, Bdubs had a similar reaction.”

“What?” Grian’s eyes widened.

She nodded. “But for him, it was because where he used to live had hybrids, and they were much more vicious than we are. It became second nature to be on edge. But now we’re best friends.” She smiled.

“So what? I’m supposed to just let him off the hook?” Grian snapped.

“I’m saying give him a chance to prove he can change.” Cleo reasoned. “If he’s still a jerk later tonight, dump him and come stay with me.” She grinned.

Grian smiled weakly. “Thanks Cleo.”

She nudged his side and the two got back to work.

~~~

When Grian got back to the cake-like house, he found a…very odd sight.

Inside was a bunch of candles, and a blanket set out with some food and pillows.

And Scar, stood there with a hopeful grin. “Well hello, my beautiful, wonderful soulmate. Care to join me for dinner-“

But then he tripped over his own feet and knocked one of the candles down, setting the blanket on fire.

“AHHH! OH MY GOSH, NO NO NO NO NO, WATER, WHERE’S WATER, GRIAN WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING!?” Scar scrambled to pour out a bucket of water as Grian cackled at the sight.

He held his stomach as he laughed. “Y-You’re such an idiot…”

Scar flushed red, pouting. “I was trying to apologize for saying such mean things.”

Grian sighed a little as his laughter faded. “Scar, I don’t want an apology, I just want you to not look at me like I’m…less than.”

“Hey,” Scar snapped, storming up to him and setting his hands on Grian’s shoulders. “You would never be less than, not to me. And neither is Cleo. What I said was stupid, and mean, and unfair. I’m sorry G.”

Grian smiled a little.

“But…if you wanna run away with BigB, I’ll understand,” Scar pretended to wipe a tear away. “I see the looks you two share, it’s fine, just go ahead and leave me-“

Grian hugged him around his waist with a grin. “Oh can it, my silly, silly soulmate.”

Scar beamed and returned the hug happily, resting his chin on the top of Grian’s head.

Maybe they’d be alright after all.

[luvr-bunnyy]

fresh set

FEZCO x FEM!READER

word count: 833 w

© luvr-bunnyy pls don't use my headers or writing without permission

Warnings: suggestive sexual content, NO SPOILERS!

[a/n: i got this idea cause i just got my nails done and i’m a WHORE for fez but like...who isn’t? anyways!! thank you for all the love for ‘anything for my princess’ i will def have a ton more lexi content in the future!! enjoy this short fic <3 - yours truly, bunnyy -`ღ´- ]

Fez loved spoiling you.

It was that simple. You saw a pair of shoes you liked? It’s yours. New clothes? Don’t trip ma, he’s got you.

His all time favorite thing to spend a quick buck on? Acrylics.

It was his favorite day of the week. Every two weeks on a Thursday afternoon. It was like clockwork. He’d take you to the salon and wait the hour and a half just to see the masterpiece on your finger tips.

Another thing he LOVED to buy you was jewelry. Rings specifically.

He couldn’t wait to see how you’d pair them with your new nails. He also loves seeing your fresh set against his chest or how a blunt looked in between your fingers.

The sound they made as you typed out a text on your phone. Seeing you grip the sheets as he plowed into you…

His all time favorite, you might be wondering? Seeing your hand wrapped around his dick. It drove him wild. The sight of your pretty nails contrast against his skin…fuck.

And today was that day.

His phone buzzed with a notification.

baby mama

all done !!

baby mama

i’ll be right out

He smiled, shaking his head before looking up through the windshield. Watching you through the glass double doors as you smiled at the receptionist, handing them the crisp $100 bill that he had given you before you walked in.

As you walked out, you met his eyes. Those beautiful pools of blue looked at you with so much love, it made your heart flutter.

Making your way into the car, you faced him with an excited smile, hiding your hands from him.

“Well come on then, pretty mama. Show ‘em to me.”

You gladly placed your hand into his awaiting palm. “Damn baby, these are some bad ass mother fucking claws!”

You blushed as he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles

Fez dropped you off at his place to look after Ash while he tended to his convenience store and he had been absolutely exhausted as he closed up but as he walked through the threshold of the apartment, all stress vanished from his shoulders.

You were sat on the couch in sweats and a hoodie that was most definitely his with Ash laying next to you, his little shaved head resting on a pillow near your thighs

Ash loved when you got your nails done too because that meant heavenly head scratches.

Not that he’d ever admit it, since he wasn’t one for physical affection but he would NEVER turn down your offer of head scratches. It was like a cardinal sin to him.

You dropped your head back onto the head rest of the couch and smiled softly at Fez as he walked over, leaned over your head and placed in upside down kiss on your lips.

“He asleep?”

“Like a baby.” You responded fondly, running a hand over Ash’s buzzed head, heart warming as he sleepily nuzzled into your touch.

Making his way to the kitchen, he paused at the sight on the kitchen table. The haphazardly rubber banded stacks of money he had scattered on its surface were gone.

“Hey ma?” He called, not really waiting for you to respond. “Where’s all my cash?”

“Oh! I counted it for you and put it away in the safe. The amount should be written somewhere on the table!” You called back.

That’s when he saw a little post-it stuck to the weathered wood surface of the table. The amount written in your familiar chicken scratch.

He heard your footsteps trail up behind him. “And Ash wanted that enchilada casserole I brought you guys once so I made some. It’s in the oven to keep it war-“

You blinked and his lips were on yours, the slightly rough palms were delicately holding your face. Knees weakening at the emotion behind the kiss.

Pulling away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you.” there was a small beat before he continued. “I was only gone a few hours but I missed you.”

“Yeah? D’you have a stressful day baby?” What he hadn’t expected was for you to press him against the kitchen counter. “How about I help you out then?” Your hand moved down to unbutton his jeans, reaching in and palming him over his Polo briefs.

The moan that escaped his throat was low and quiet, almost like a sigh. “Fuck…” He felt himself twitch as he felt your nails lightly raking over his clothed and aching cock.

He watched you slowly sink to your knees, keeping eye contact as you did so. Settling down on your heels, you leaned forward and tugged the rest of his clothing down, kissing his exposed hips as you did so.

“God damn ma…” He moaned, hand gripping your hair before he looked down and admired the way your fresh manicure looked wrapped around him and it took everything in him not to bust then and there.

—-

“Eww seriously guys! We fucking eat in there!” Ash stood up from the couch. Eyes squeezed tight and hands covering his ears, rushing to his room. “Y’all are fucking nasty!”