#buzz: haha it fits you like a glove :)

[orkojpeg]

anyone remember luminous's villain quest? he gotta get back buzz's hat and buzz gives it to him as a gift. one dang ugly gift from a dude he hates lmao

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 2

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for language and blood + references to violence Warning: Lil bit of kisses with dubious consent (initial surprise, then “hmm this is nice, I guess”), as well as a tiny bit of blood. Oh, and, ya know, mild referenced cannibalism. Notes: Still no beta reader, we die like innocent chickens unfortunate enough to be in Ethan Winters’ way. Also, I’m hoping this isn’t too ramble-y, I kinda. Got excited. Maybe sorta stayed up late to write this instead of sleeping, so... PS sorry for the cliffhanger, I could not resist. Next chapter will include the reader earning their PHD in Bullshittery, while also moving us into the, like, actual central plot of Serenade (or at least the part that the romance revolves around). Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne

Chapter 2: Overture

     By the time you made it back to the maidens' quarters, it was nearly half an hour after your "shift" officially ended. Daniela hadn't taken up that much of your time, but her words had instilled a vigorous sense of anxiety in you, which had only drawn out your remaining tasks. You also weren't terribly looking forward to being interrogated by your coworkers. What would you even say? "Oh yeah, I accidentally played a note on the forbidden piano but instead of killing me, Lady Daniela just flirted with me and let me go! Haha smiley face emoji!"

     Yeah, that would definitely go over great with the others. Maybe you could get away with pretending you hadn't been the one to play? Even though, you know, your daily duties were posted on the same wall as everyone else's, and anyone could see that you were the only person working in the music room today. Damnit, you think, everyone is always a bit tense when someone "gets off easy". Not that it happened terribly often. It simply made people nervous, considering they never knew if the Ladies of the house had been denied the "stress relief" they so desired, and whether or not they would want to take it out on someone else.

     Hoping things would sail a little smoother this time, you took a deep breath and pushed the door to your quarters open. As soon as you stepped in you felt a dozen pairs of eyes turn your way. There had been muffled talking as you approached, but now it was silent, a heavy curtain of discomfort hanging over the room. Well, fuck, you thought, struggling to think of how to react. In the end you settled with a slightly-too-enthusiastic wave and a shy smile.

     “What the hell is wrong with you?” One of the maidens asks, almost instantly, eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed with confusion. If you remembered correctly, her name was Cynthia, and she was one of the (currently) longest running survivors. The two of you hadn’t spoken before, which made her next move all the more confusing. Without much of a warning she moved in front of you, reaching out to grab your hands, before gently holding them in front of her chest. When she speaks, it’s with a hushed voice. “How are you not dead right now?”

     “I… have absolutely no idea,” you replied, doing what you could to avoid her gaze, but ending up meeting eyes with the others in the room.

     “When you didn’t get back with everyone else… we assumed the worst,” Daphne, the closest thing you had to a best friend, said. She was towards the front of the small crowd of maidens, all of whom were now gathering around you out of curiosity. “You’re probably just lucky that Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t home while you played, otherwise, well, I think we can all guess what would have happened.”

     “Thank the Mother for that, literally,” Cynthia chimed, dropping your hands as she did. That caught your interest for sure. Despite being part of an eccentric “extended family”, it wasn’t that often that Lady Dimitrescu actually left the castle to visit the other Lords; or their leader, for that matter. Was something big coming? Or was it simply time for a regular check up? You didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as soon Cynthia was speaking again. “Now, please, regale us with your story, dear. It must certainly be interesting… seeing as you escaped unscathed.”

     “Alright, alright,” you said, putting your hands up in a “slow down” motion. Sighing, you moved over to your bed, sitting on the edge, before starting to tell the others what happened. You left out a few details, such as the severity of Daniela’s flirting, as well as the way she touched you. By the time you reached the end of your story, the other maidens had settled in a semi circle around you. A few had started to get ready for the day shift while you spoke, but their movements were deliberately slow, and their gasps let you know they were definitely listening. It was, however, difficult to tell how anyone really felt about what you were saying. Were they looking worried because they were concerned for your safety, or for their own?

     Hard to say. All you knew at the end of night was that no one was looking forward to the following night.

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

     Every shadow in the corner of your eyes makes your heart skip a beat. All day (night, technically) you’ve been overly paranoid, expecting Daniela or one of her sisters to pop out at any moment, their sickles raised, blood-stained lips pulled up into a grin, promises of violence dripping from their mouths. So far your anxiety had proven irrational. Experience, on the other hand, was reverse-reassuring you with memories of maidens you had hardly had time to get to know. Who were you to avoid such a fate? Could playing a little song really justify your existence to these people? These mutants?

     Distracting thoughts like that swirled around your mind for hours, leaving you feeling faint and dizzy, as you desperately tried to focus on your work. Ironically, it was your tunnel vision on your worries that brought them to life.

     “Humph, you should really pay more attention, sweet thing,” a voice whispers, right besides your ear. Immediately you jump, a little yelp escaping you, and whirl around to see who had crept up on you. Your wide open eyes soon settled on the youngest Dimitrescu daughter. A toothy grin lit up her face as she took you in, leaning in just close enough for you to feel her breath. “Missed me?” She asks, words melting into a fit of giggles. One moment she’s face to face with you, the next she’s evaporating into a swarm of insects, moving around the room with frightening speed before settling on a nearby table. Both her legs dangle off the edge, swinging a little in a childlike manner.

     “Lady Daniela, I-” you stutter, hardly able to will yourself to speak. You can’t help but glance at the table with a feeling of anxiety, knowing that you had just finished cleaning it, and wonder if your work would be for naught. But it seems that Daniela doesn’t appreciate you focusing on something other than her. Again she buzzes into a cloud, this time coming closer to you, the insects circling you, occasionally tugging at your skin. Fight or flight tries to kick in, yet all you manage to do is freeze in place.

     You don’t open your eyes until the sound of hundreds of wings beating dies down. Fresh drops of blood trickle down your brow, as well a few from smaller cuts on your arms. Panic still roots you in place, even as you stare up at Daniela with a frightened expression. At first all she does is laugh. Loudly, with no softness to it at all. This was exactly the sort of thing that you had been afraid of in the first place.

     “Oh, you poor little thing… Did that hurt?” Daniela asks, trailing a hand up your arm, pausing just before her fingers touch blood. Then she leans in, once more putting her lips right next to your ear, slowly pulling off one of her gloves as she does. “Good. Maybe you’ll pay more attention to me now. You really should, being in love with me and all.” She says it so casually, and with such conviction, that you almost wonder if she knew something that you didn’t. Though you try to turn to look at you, you find her gloved hand holding your head in place. The other moves so slowly that you almost don’t notice it until her thumb is sliding across your forehead. Blood smears as she does this, but she doesn’t bother trying to be neat about it.

     Instead she simply brings the finger back towards herself, her other hand turning your face as she does, so that you could make eye contact as she licks her thumb clean. As soon as the blood hits her tongue her eyelids flutter and a soft moan rises in her throat. Astoundedly the sound brought a strong blush to your cheeks. It was less about attraction per se, more about the inherently intimate nature of the moment. Daniela was so close, her hand resting on the back of your head, her eyes slowly returning their focus to you. When she sees you she can’t help but don a prideful grin.

     “You taste even better than I expected, sweet thing- what a fitting nickname, mhmm?” Another giggle, another rush of blood to your cheeks. In the rush of the moment you found your fear fading out, slowly, gradually being replaced by a mix of confusion and… warmth? What is wrong with me, you think, mind racing with countless half-thoughts.

     Suddenly, as quick as the strongest of impulses, you found yourself being pulled closer to Daniela, her bare hand moving to rest on your waist. For once her eyes left your own. Now they drifted lower, to your lips, giving you a single moment to realize her intentions before she acts on them. Your lips collide with hers before you can even think to protest. It’s a million times softer than you would have ever imagined- not that you had imagined. But now that you had felt this… damnit, you know you shouldn’t enjoy it, yet you found yourself kissing back nonetheless. It wasn’t like it meant anything, right? Not like you’d have a chance to kiss anyone else around the castle, either.

     Within a couple moments you realize two things: One, Daniela was smiling into the kiss. Two, by Jove (by Miranda?) was she seemingly inexperienced. Based on how much flirting she had done, you had naturally assumed that she was in no way, shape, or form new to this. The kiss was a bit sloppy, although passionate, and Daniela seemed quick to mimic your movements. More than that, it seemed like she was unable to catch her breath (did she even need to breathe? Or were the movements more out of habit than anything else?). By the time she pulls away she needs to gasp, and you’re left absolutely reeling, unsure how to process any of this. On the other hand, Daniela was softly grinning, gently resting her forehead against your own.

     “Delectable, darling,” she murmurs. There’s a softness to her voice that you simply cannot fathom is real, at least not entirely so. Then a pause, with her gently running her fingers through your hair, before she gives you one more little peck on the lips. When she pulls away, just far enough to really look at you, you see something in her eyes that fills you with dread: Hunger. “I think I know what you want, what you need. You want to be with me, forever, a part of me, don’t you? They always do, in the end…” Her eyes shift to your neck, and suddenly her grip on you is dangerously tight.

     Instantly you shift into panic mode, trying to squirm out of her grasp to no avail. This seems to irritate Daniela, who digs her nails into your waist, making you gasp. Without hesitation she seizes the opportunity to push you against the nearest wall, the hand that had caressed you so gently now pinning you down. Your thoughts are racing, desperately searching for anything that might buy you some time to get away, or even dissuade her entirely. But seconds tick by with nothing coming to light, your hope quickly fading. Gulping, you squeeze your eyes shut, ready to accept your fate.

     And then… it hits you. An idea, maybe, that might just be stupid enough to work. Here goes nothing…

     “Wait! Don’t you want me to show you my love?” You ask, somehow managing to mask the pure terror you were feeling. Hell, you slipped in a bit of confidence, sounding far, far more sure of yourself than you really were. Apparently it was enough to give Daniela pause. Her teeth had been mere inches from your neck, but now she was watching you closely, head tilted at a slight angle. “I can hardly do that if you kill me so soon, love. Don’t you want to see everything I have to offer? To know me truly, fully, before we become as one?” Another pause, a little hum from Daniela, then a slow, spine-chilling smile.

      “Go on, then… show me.”

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 7

@pocketramblr

.

"Hey, Midoriya?" asked Uraraka, after Aizawa passed out a costume revision assignment and feigned passing out.

"Yes?" said Midoriya, knowing that his eyes were preturnaturally wide and fine tremors were running through his body. He was a wreck.

"Are you okay? Why did you come to class with Mr. Aizawa?"

"And what's that you're holding onto?" asked Kaminari.

"Um," said Izuku. "I was sort of... abducted by the support department? But in a nice way... And they gave me this grappling hook."

"Wow, cool! I didn't know we could get stuff like that from the support department."

"You should really read the student handbook, Kaminari," said Iida, pushing up his glasses.

"But it's so long!"

Iida tsked and adjusted his glasses more vigorously. "You're a student! You should at least be familiar with what is expected of you! Speaking of which, Midoriya, do you know how to use that?"

As much as he could learn from a ten-minute crash-course. "... yes," said Izuku, but it was clear from Iida's face that he had hesitated too long.

"Midoriya! You shouldn't have something like that in the classroom without knowing how to use it!" Iida half stood up, and Izuku clutched the grappling hook closer to his chest.

"No! Mine!" Maybe he was too attached to something he'd only had for a little over an hour, but the support department hadn't been able to give him any smoke bombs or flash grenades due to 'new school regulations regarding explosives' and he'd gone through a lot this morning.

Distress washed over Iida's face, and Izuku wondered if he'd accidentally smacked into some old trauma.

"I wasn't going to take it!" he said, earnestly waving his hands. "I just wanted to make sure you knew where the safety-"

The door to the classroom slammed open. "Is that my little brother I hear?" asked a beaming man in a track suit. Without waiting for an answer, he bounded over to where Iida was sitting and clapped him on the back. "I have come to embarrass you horribly!"

From the expression on Iida's face, this venture was doomed to failure. "I thought you were joking when you said you'd see me today!" exclaimed Iida, beaming.

"Why... why would I joke about that?"

"You joke about a lot of things. Like knowing vigila-"

"Okay! Yes, haha, funny jokester, that's me! Now why don't you introduce me to your classmates?"

"Of course! I have been remiss in my duties as vice president." He stood and executed a ninety-degree bow. "Forgive me! This is my brother, Iida Tensei! Also known as the pro hero Ingenium!"

Izuku could almost see his classmates start to put together the puzzle pieces of Chibiida and extremely tall older brother. He was more concerned about whether or not it would be rude to ask Ingenium for his autograph... and to check his analysis page on Ingenium...

"That's me! And I'll be your special guest TA today! Now, where's Aizawa? You're supposed to have him for homeroom, right?"

As one, the class pointed to the giant yellow caterpillar in the corner of the room.

"Oh my gosh, Shouta, I thought you were joking-"

.

Ingenium was, to put it in a single word, cool. To put it in two words, he was unbelievably cool. So cool Izuku was almost able to forget the impending field-trip-related DOOM they were all facing.

But not quite.

So Izuku slogged through his classes, still thrilled to be there and waning to do his best, but unable to truly focus past the crushing weight of what might happen. His classmates and maybe-friends hovered at the periphery of his suffering, clearly wanting to help, but just as clearly unsure how, or what lines they could or couldn't cross, leading them to resort to painfully awkward normal small talk.

Until they sat down for lunch, that is, by which time Monoma and Iida had gotten into a conversational spiral about how amazing UA was, how awesome Ingenium was, and how UA was truly superior for being able to have pro-heroes like Ingenium come in as TAs on such short notice.

"Midoriya," said Uraraka, startling him out of his fourth or fifth 'Kacchan sweep.'

(It was still possible that his bad feeling was related to Kacchan hunting him down and blowing him up. He'd be mortified about making such a big deal over it if that was the case, but it would be preferable to, say, a terrorist attack.)

(Why did he keep coming back to terrorist attacks?)

"Are you... okay? You've just seemed really down today, and-"

"Invisible hug!" shouted Hagakure before grabbing Izuku and lifting him over her head.

There was a beat of whispering near-silence. Then Uraraka stood up, slamming both hands on the table and inadvertently making it float. "You have got to tell me your work out routine!"

Izuku agreed.

("Strawberry," someone whispered.)

.

"I generally say what's on my mind," said Asui as the Iidas had radically different reactions to the bus seating arrangement.

"Aha," said Izuku. The swaying of the bus plus the strain of probably-Danger-Sense was making him nauseous. "What is it, Asui?'

"Call me Tsuyu."

The first time a person his age let him call them by name since kindergarten, and he couldn't properly appreciate it. Figured.

"I was watching the videos of the battle trials I missed last night," Tsuyu continued, "and I realized, I don't think any of us know what your quirk is."

Izuku's first impulse was to lie or redirect the conversation. Years of quirklessness had left their mark. But on second consideration... was there really a reason to lie? He wasn't going to talk about One for All, obviously, but the rest of it was harmless and bound to come out eventually anyway.

"Well," said Izuku, adjusting the fit of his air filter self-consciously. "That's a good question, actually."

"If you're keeping it a secret, I won't press."

"No, no, that isn't it!" Yes, it was. "It's just that, um, it's really subtle? As in, so subtle I thought I was quirkless until recently. Haha."

"Oh, wow," said Kirishima, "that must have been hard. I mean, I got teased for having a boring quirk, I can't even imagine-"

"Your quirk isn't boring! It's more than enough to be a pro!"

"But what is your quirk?" asked Monoma.

"Um," said Izuku, "well, we're not entirely sure, but... We think it lets me sense things that are dangerous? But I've also got anxiety, so..."

Monoma was frowning, but before he could speak, one of Hagakure's gloves waved frantically in front of his face.

"Is that how you knew I was there?" she asked. "In the battle trial and the entrance exam?"

"Maybe? I think so?"

"You were kind of anxious this morning," said Uraraka, concerned. "Did something bad happen to you?"

"Not- not yet," said Izuku, weakly. "It- We still don't really know how it works, so it could just be the anxiety..." He trailed off. Everyone was kind of staring at him. He pressed back against his seat, wishing there was somewhere to hide.

"Well!" said Uraraka, suddenly pumped up. "We'll just have to keep an eye out! We're hero students, aren't we?"

There was a general cheer of consensus and Izuku managed a shaky smile. So, this was what it was like to have friends.

Eventually, Mr. Aizawa told them to calm down, but there was no heat in the scolding. Maybe, Izuku thought, past the ever-increasing buzzing in his head, today would be okay after all.

.

"Yeah," said Hikage, "there's really no chance of that."

.

The Unforeseen Simulation Joint was an incredible space!

Space Hero Thirteen was about a thousand times cooler in person than on TV!

All Might, in his golden age rescue-specialized costume, looked like he'd just stepped off the pages of a comic book!

But just like Tsuyu's name, Izuku didn't have the ability to appreciate it.

As the other students marveled over the USJ, Izuku watched the adults quietly talk to one another. It seemed to be something serious.

.

"Did you find anything else with the safety checks?" asked Shouta.

"A few of the areas had the difficulty set too high- apparently some of the third-years decided to get some practice in and their supervisor didn't reset everything. Other than that? Nothing." Thirteen shook their head. "No signs of structural failure, no security gaps. Everything seems, well, normal."

"Well," said All Might, "whatever happens, we're prepared!"

Aizawa seriously doubted they were prepared for anything, but the most obvious, most likely things? Yeah.

"What do you think, Ingenium?" he asked.

"Everything looks fine to me," said Tensei, shrugging. "But if it was something obvious, then it wouldn't be so much of a threat, right?"

"We're still not sure how Midoriya's quirk really works," said Shouta. "It could be a threat just to him." He sighed heavily.

Tensei smiled in a way that just about guaranteed Shouta would be teased about this later.

"Well, I'm going to start my speech now!" said Thirteen giving the others a thumbs up. "Wish me luck!"

.

As soon as Thirteen finished their (surprisingly moving) speech, all of Izuku's attention zeroed in on the air next to the fountain. A swirl of dark mist appeared next to it.

Izuku felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Mr. Aizawa-!" But he was already looking in that direction, already watching the man made covered in emerge from the dark hole, followed by a veritable horde of villains.

And Izuku didn't use the term villain idly here. Several of the people he saw were on wanted lists.

Ironically, now that he was faced with real danger, the panicked siren in his head eased off slightly. Evidently, at least some of the strain had been fear of the unknown, and now the threat was very, very known in the worst way, that particular stressor was gone.

"There he is!" cried the man covered in hands. "All Might! The one we've all come for! Nomu! Get him!"

A large villain with an exposed brain who practically sang with danger charged All Might, who grabbed him by the wrist and flung him away, towards the landslide zone. "Ha! That's not much of a challenge! You'll have to do better than that, villains!"

"Maybe," said a villain made of the same mist as the portal that had brought the others. The large villain came charging out of the landslide zone, none the worse for wear. "Maybe not."

"You might be an elite player, but can you fight the boss and protect the noobs you're powerleveling?"

The other villains surged forwards.

This is when Mr. Aizawa and Ingenium jumped into the fray, and everything immediately got more chaotic. Izuku rapidly lost track of the multiple battles occurring around him - except, wow, Mr. Aizawa was really mowing through villains, wasn't he - that Nomu guy had to have a regeneration quirk, there was just no way - he'd have to write down that villain's monolog as soon as they got out, it might have clues - Izuku had no idea that Ingenium could fly and wow that gave him some ideas for Iida-

Speaking of Iida-

"This is no time for analysis! Hurry up and evacuate!"

Right.

"I won't allow that."

Yeah the misty villain definitely had some kind of teleportation quirk, which made this whole thing even more gutsy. Quirks like that were always monitored by the government. These guys must not care about their identities.

"Greetings," he said, a metal colar slipping into place around his neck. "We are the League of Villains. Forgive our audacity, but... today we've come to-"

A gust of air from All Might's fight pushed the mist villain back. But the move had left him partially unguarded, and Izuku watched helplessly as Nomu pounded a fist into his exposed side-

Nomu knew about All Might's injury.

Oh, no.

Izuku didn't have time to process that, however, as Kirishima and Monoma jumped forward, attacking the mist villain.

The feeling of danger spiked, and Izuku barely registered Monoma's bewildered expression.

"Only students... but the best of the best... yes he was right to say you'd be a threat." Darkness spread like an ink stain from the villain's body. Darkness... and portals.

Izuku slammed into Tsuyu and Kaminari, pushing them out of the way of forming portals. He wasn't able to do the same for himself.

"Begone," intoned the mist villain, his voice echoing all around Izuku. "Writhe in torment until you breathe your last."

The next thing Izuku knew, he was in clear light and falling. From at least two stories up, over the flood zone.

And then he stopped.

.

The ghosts whipped their heads around to stare at Nana. She was sitting on a stool, hiding her face in her hands, though whether it was out of embarrassment or fear for Izuku was unclear.

"Nana..." said Yoichi, softly.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry I saw him falling and pani-"

"What did you do that for!" exclaimed Banjo. "He was only fifteen, twenty meters up! Into water!"

"That's twice as high as Olympic divers go! And they screw up their bodies all the time if they hit wrong!" shot back Nana, other emotions abandoned in favor of rage.

"Uh, guys...?" said Yoichi, weakly.

"Who still watches the Olympics?" muttered En.

"If we had to give him a new quirk, it should have been a combat one!"

"You're just jealous that he has Float and not Blackwhip!"

"So what if I am?" demanded Banjo. "If he had Blackwhip, he wouldn't need that stupid grappling hook gun!"

"So, you admit Blackwhip is just a glorified grappling hook?"

"Better than a glorified- glorified-" He puffed out his cheeks. "I'm going to give him Blackwhip right now!"

"NO!" shouted the other ghosts.

"Banjo," said En, "what do you remember about people who All for One gave three quirks to?"

Banjo went pale.

"Oh, hell," said Banjo. "I'm sorry, I got carried away."

"You can say that again," grumbled Nana.

"But," continued Banjo, "doesn't this mean we can't give him the stockpile?"

They turned to Yoichi, who was far and away the expert on the stockpile quirk. He held up his hands and offered a sick, shaky smile. "We've already started the process of giving him stockpile access. There's... there's really no way to stop it."

Nana started swearing, and even Second and Third looked tense.

"But that's borrowing trouble! Maybe he'll be compatable?"

"With three quirks?"

"It's possible!" protested Yoichi. "I mean, he's- um, he's got One for All? Maybe it's more like All for One than we thought?"

"Disgusting."

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"Never say that again."

"But, again, that's a future problem, unlike the villain attack, which is a now problem."

"I see what you're saying," said En, "but we can't do anything about the villain attack, but we could theoretically do something about quirk troubles. Unless you'd rather watch helplessly while our latest-possibly-last holder is murdered?"

Yoichi sighed. "Okay, yeah, let's take a look."

.

Izuku's first thought was that Uraraka must have tagged him, but he had been way too far away from her for her to do that. Unless she had run at him when he dove for Tsuyu? Tsuyu had maybe sort of been between them...

But, no, this didn't feel like Uraraka's quirk. He'd only experienced it a couple of times, but it felt like falling. This felt more like floating on the surface of a pool.

This was, he realized as he drifted helplessly upwards and slightly sideways, Shimura Nana's quirk.

It would be really, really cool if the circumstances were different or if he had any control over the quirk whatsoever. As it was, he didn't appreciate the way he was getting progressively higher. Hitting the water at his previous height would have sucked, but he probably would have survived. Now? Not so much. So, if the quirk decided to stop as suddenly as it had started, he was doomed.

Beyond doomed.

He'd be dead.

Wait! The grappling hook!

He pulled it carefully out of its holster, making sure to wrap the loop around his wrist. He could get back to the ground with the grappling hook, anchor himself at a decent height and make use of this, or even attack, but if he dropped it...

Well. Doom and all that.

His best bet was the top of the downpour zone. It was the closest structure by far. He lined up his sights, fired, and watched as the hook fell several meters short.

That was less than ideal.

He rolled over and looked up. He wasn't that far from the ceiling-

Danger Sense screamed at him, and he was falling, just in time to miss getting hit by a jet of water from below. Izuku, naturally, started screaming as well and fired the grappling hook blindly. He rejoiced as a metallic thunk told him it had hit something and immediately hit the stop button, almost wrenching his shoulders out of their sockets. However, his joy quickly turned to horror as he realized he was now headed toward the hard, unforgiving side of the downpour zone at a dangerously high speed. He squeezed his eyes shut.

Float turned back on.

Izuku let out a somewhat pathetic whine in relief, and hit the retract button on the grappling hook gun, letting it pull him up to the roof.

From here, he had an acceptable view of the rest of the USJ. He shaded his eyes to look back at the main plaza and entrance. He could see Eraserhead and Ingenium fighting back to back in the central plaza. All Might and Nomu were tearing up trees in one of the forested areas, and near the entrance he could see Thirteen, Iida, Uraraka, Shouji, Sato, Sero, and Ashido facing down the mist villain. Hopefully, with those numbers, they'd be able to get past him.

Looking elsewhere, Izuku had to assume Todoroki was in the landslide zone, with the spiky ring of ice in the middle of it. He must be holding back. He could make out a fight happening in the mountain zone, but couldn't tell who was involved.

That was more than half the class unaccounted for, including Tsuyu and Kaminari, who he'd thought he'd pushed away from portals. They were probably in the other zones, but...

He took a deep breath. Focus. Where would he do the most good? Danger Sense couldn't tell him that right now, with all these bright threats all around him. He had to decide on his own.

The fight in the mountain area wasn't going well. The number of visible villains was only increasing.

Could Izuku get there? He bit his lip as he contemplated the distance, then jogged back to the opposite side of the downpour zone roof.

Then he ran.

Then he-

-jumped-

-off the roof.

Float activated at the top of the arc of his jump, and his momentum sent him tumbling forward towards the mountain zone. As he approached and began to slow (air resistance still being a thing, apparently), he was able to see Yaoyorozu and Jiro fighting for their lives. Yaoyorozu did not look good.

This wasn't a great way to be proven right about her quirk having drawbacks.

He aimed the grappling hook at one of the larger, closer villains, not really caring about how much damage it would do, and fired.

.

"Wow," said En. "Kid definitely has a bit of a ruthless streak."

"Imagine how much better he'd do with Blackwhip."

"He wouldn't have been able to get there in the first place without Float."

"Honestly," continued En, "I don't get why Second and Third don't like him. They never shut up about Nana and Eighth being too soft, after all."

"What? They said that stuff about me, too?"

"Yeah, I think they're just unsatsifiable at this point. It's annoying."

"I was much more violent and ruthless than Toshi, though."

"I know."

"Yoichi," said Hikage. "I'm not seeing any sign of additional stress on Ninth's body."

"That's because Izuku is the best."

"Or," said En, "it's because he's only had Nana's quirk for, like, five, ten minutes, tops."

"Or because he's the best. Just look at how he's helped his friends defeat all those villains!"

"Compelling argument," said Hikage.

.

"What- what now?" asked Yaoyorozu, holding herself up with one of her staffs. The mountain zone was littered with various weapons and shrapnel from Yaoyorozu's quirk use. This included a canon. Which was really cool, but seemed a bit over the top... and maybe not the most efficient thing to make, considering Yaoyorozu's limitations.

"I don't know," admitted Izuku. He'd been flung around the field as a makeshift flail/bola by the girls a few times, and was a little dizzy.

He looked back out at the battles still taking place in the plaza. "I think... Maybe we should go down, and make our way around the edge to the entrance. We could pick up Todoroki and see if there's anyone in the ruins zone who needs help-"

Then he saw the hand villain step forward, facing down Eraserhead as Ingenium was lured away in defense of Tsuyu and Kaminari, who had just run out of the wooded area, trailing villains. Danger flared in his mind's eye, and, for the second time in his life, his body moved by itself.

[mizunetzu]

I just skipped school and binge read all of your fanfics- They’re really good gRRRRrrr 🥺🥺 Keep up the good work!! That being said- Can I request a fluffy Hawks x male reader where the reader has a cold and is stuck in bed and Hawks takes care of him? Thank you vv much!!!

HAHHAHA WHY IS ALL MY HAWKS REQUESTS ALWAYS FLUFF (I mean ur like my second one but it’s still flufF) (and not that this wasn’t fun to write cuz it was HAAHA I’m lowkey proud)

(Also gRRRRur so nice but GO TO SCHOOL >:( BARK BARKK BAEKR)

——————

Hawks x reader - The Sick Fic

⚠️warnings - it’s as the title says. It’s the sick fic.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) coughed up sticky red blood.

“Y-yeah, no. I don’t think I can patrol today, Yusha-san. The villain from yesterday activated their quirk on me-and I’m feeling a bit sick.”

Yusha, the secretary to the (L/n) hero agency, typed something down on his computer. “Is it something we should be concerned about?”

“No.” (Y/n) croaked out with a chuckle. “Their quirk isn’t really dangerous, but it did make me a bit sick. It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

“Ok. I’ll send in one of your sidekicks to patrol with Hawks-san today.” More typing from across the phone. (Y/n) pursed his lips.

“U-uh,”

“Don’t worry. I’m sending a male sidekick.” Yusha practically read his mind. (Y/n) didn’t want any stupid girls hitting on his stupid, popular, pro-hero patrol buddy boyfriend.

“Thank you, Yusha-san.”

“It’s nothing. Get some rest, (H/n). We expect you to show up tomorrow.” Yusha ended up before (Y/n) could even say goodbye. He lazily dropped his phone onto his bedside table, burying himself under his bedsheets as best as he could. Just as he was getting comfy, the urge to cough up more blood kicked him in the stomach.

He flung himself over his bed, practically shoving his head into the small waste bin under his bedside table. He wiped his mouth with his forearm after hacking up more blood, his head suddenly feeling hazy and jumbled.

He groaned, and got under the bedsheets once more. The world seemed to be against him today, as another distraction forced him out from his beauty sleep.

His phone buzzed once. Twice. Then the annoying, overlapping ring of multiple messages being spammed buzzed out his phone, making (Y/n) cover his ears with his pillow.

Annoyed, he patted around the side table til’ his hand landed on his phone, pulling it towards him and under the sheets.

‘Keigo 🍗 - where r u :(‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - who’s this...rando dude patrolling wit me :(((‘

‘Keigo 🍗 - r u asleep or smth’

‘Keigo 🍗 - wake up ur late to patrol and I need my yakitori addiction funded today’

‘Keigo 🍗 - DUDE’

‘Keigo 🍗 - BBBBBBBBBB’

‘Keigo 🍗 - IM NOT GONNA STOP SPAMMING U TILL U ANSWER ME OR SHOW UP AN PATROL WITH ME >:(((‘

(Y/n) sighed. He opened the messages, meaning that Keigo would get the ‘message read’ notification, but he couldn’t care less. Tossing the phone lazily on the table, he muted the messages app.

———

(Y/n) stirred in his sleep when he heard tapping on his bedroom window. (Y/n) opened his sticky eyes, barely open enough to see a blurry red object tapping against the glass frame. Eventually, the object halted, gave up, and swooped down and out of sight. He shrugged.

Just as he closed his eyes, more pelting came from the window, this time louder and heavier. (Y/n) snapped his eyes open, flinging himself out of bed, and getting ready to activate his quirk.

He visibly relaxed when he saw the huge red wings tapping outside the window, with a certain hero crouching down, looking at him sheepishly and trying to pick open the window lock. The man waved with an embarrassed smile, his feathers following suit.

“Keigo Takami. What the fuck are you doing in my house.”

The man, Keigo Takami, chuckled awkwardly while (y/n) undid the clasps on his window. He stepped back, allowing him to worm his way in through the small window.

Keigo paused, half way squeezed in with his wings stuck in the cramped window frame. He was stuck. “Y...you need to buy a bigger window-“

“Are you dumb?” (Y/n) chuckled, the sight of Pro Hero Hawks, man who could pull absolute pussy, bent over his bedroom window, stuck with his wings awkwardly fluttering in place. “Just, I don’t know, send your feathers off until they’re small enough to fit you in.”

Keigo had a wave of realization. This man had no braincells whatsoever. “...oh, haha, you’re so smart~”

One by one, feathers jutted out from his back, each floating either inside (Y/n’s) room or outside the window. Once all of them were off, and his back were relatively empty, he tumbled ever-so-gracefully inside the room. He stood up, his wings rebuilding themselves in seconds, and did an awful curtsy.

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all day to take care of my sick patrol partner who do happens to be my boyfriend,”

“Speaking of patrol -what happened to patrol? A-and the dude you should be patrolling with? You should be out by n-“

A sharp, piercing pain shot through (Y/n’s) head. Now that the adrenaline from Hawks pounding on his window was subsiding, he seemed to remember how much his head was hurting.

He fumbled down, catching himself on the foot of his bed while Keigo lurched forward. “You good?” He mumbled, taking off his black wool glove.

He rested the back of his palm on (Y/n’s) forehead, before signing uncontently and replacing his hand with his lips. Even if he was burning up, (Y/n) froze.

After a while, Keigo drew his head back. “You’re burning up...”

Silence. Hawks awkwardly chuckled and played it off by running his hand through his hair.

“Lips are more sensitive than hands are-so I was just...you need to get to bed!” Keigo quickly stood up, gently ushering the sick hero to his bed. Pulling up the thick-set covers, Keigo hazily tosses his jacket to the corner and discarded his other glove.

“Try and get some rest. Did that dude’s quirk from yesterday do this?” He got a nod in response. “Alright. I’m gonna go change and get you some shit.”

With that and a warm smile, Keigo disappeared through the bedroom door. (Y/n) followed him with his eyes, right before he was out of sight, then let his eyes droop close.

———

“Pssst.”

A finger poked at (Y/n’s) cheek. He grumbled, furrowing his brows and keeping his eyes screwed shut. He heard a sigh from somewhere above him.

Something feathery tickled him from underneath his nose. He scrunched his nose up, expecting the odd feeling to go away, before feeling a sneeze build up. The watery feeling course through his nose before his head shot up every-so-slightly to let out a weak “Achoo!”

Keigo snickered. (Y/n) finally opened his eyes. Keigo was sitting beside him, now in casual clothes, holding a convince store bag and a red feather. The feather flew out of his hand and stuck itself on his back.

“Sorry I was out for so long. You didn’t have jack shit in your house, so I bought some medicine and takeout since I know you won’t eat soup and I can’t cook.”

It was true. The only thing Pro Hero Hawks is allowed to do is heat up a hotdog, and even then he might break the microwave. And (Y/n) won’t eat soup he made if his life depended on it. If he can’t even turn on the stove, what makes you think that he’d drink a whole bowl of soup made by him and not die?

“Whad’ja get?” (Y/n’s) voice came out more gravely and deep than he expected. Under different circumstances, that would’ve been kinda hot. Keigo pulled out things one by one from the bag.

“Ok so, I got painkillers, a cooling pack, a heating pad just in case your stomach starts hurting, a thermometer, and I found these cool matching red bird keychains and I bought them on impulse. One for you and one for me~ I also bought 2 beef bowls”

Keigo layed all the items down either on the bed or on the table beside it, holding up the keychains last. Shaking them around a bit, turns out there was a small bell inside both of them. (Y/n) tried, and failed, to hide his growing smile.

Keigo placed the cooling pack on (Y/n’s) previously burning forehead. The sudden coldness forced an involuntary groan from the bed sick male. He chuckled.

“Sorry. Deal with that for awhile and I’ll feed you~” Hawks saddled up in the spot next to him, holding the two plastic bowls and worming his way underneath the covers. He placed the food down on his lap and switched on the tv.

They sat in silence, the only thing being the sounds of the tv filling the room with the occasional reaction or snicker from the two. Keigo alternated between shoveling a forkful of rice and beef into his mouth, then feeding his boyfriend and carefully making sure none spilled onto his bed. The news reporter droned on onscreen, their voice being tuned out by the two hero’s.

“By the way, Keigo,” (Y/n) started, once he swallowed his food. Keigo gave a hum of acknowledgment, holding up a finger to (y/n), then to his mouth until he finished chewing. Thickly swallowing, Keigo hummed again.

“You were supposed to patrol today. With one of my sidekicks. What happened to that?”

Keigo looked at (Y/n), before looking back at the tv so causally. For a while he said nothing, until he opened his mouth.

“I ditched.”

(Y/n) made a sputtering noise. His shock turned into a long string of hacks and coughs, which Keigo waited ever-so-patiently for him to calm down from. “You ditched?! Keigo, you’re the no. 2 hero! You can’t be caught ditching!”

“Relaaaaax,” Keigo leaned farther into the bed cushions. “I told my agency and your stupid sidekick man that I was gonna check on you. It was a valid excuse.”

“Still!” (Y/n) rubbed at his temples. Hawks shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth. “You’re sitting here watching tv with me instead of working!”

“I needed a break. Plus,” Keigo held up his unfinished bowl of food defensively.

“I can’t believe you.”

“I love you too~”

(Y/n) sighed.

“I hope you get sick.” Hawks chuckled, saying something about being immune to all sicknesses.

Needless to say, (y/n) was patrolling with one of Keigos sidekicks the next day.

——————

[nevenabadr]

Sebastian Stan X Reader, Leather Love, Prologue

This is a prologue to Leather Love!

Note: English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

· Bliss, a novel about a magical baker.

· A Dash of Magic, a novel about a magical family of bakers

Word count: 2003

Warnings: Romance, fluff, sweet words, and few explicit words

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 🖤

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

You and Sebastian met at the Met Ball, an annual fundraising gala for the benefit of the Metropolitan, and you were their choice for creating the patisserie masterpieces for the evening.

As for Sebastian, the gala was enjoyable till the moment he was running away from the press.

Also, you were running away from the pressure of catering for your foremost important event of the season.

At the calmest corner of the hotel. You sat calming yourself down speaking to yourself, "I am seven stars rated Baker. One of the best around the world."

Little did you know that someone was taking a few steps and heading to that same calming place.

You were so close when you noticed that man lighting a cigarette "want one?"

He smiled at you.

"You know, that could kill you." You frowned.

"Better than anxiety" he scrunched his nose.

Smocking was something you tried once or twice for fun but never thought of as a tool for calming your nerves.

"I am Y/N by the way."

"Sebastian" he extended a hand to shake yours

You did not rush to tell him you know him and his works. You are a fan, but you still respect that he is already anxious.

"Can I ask, what are you so anxious about?" You calmly asked.

"Too many cameras, I am used to them, but I needed a moment for myself too."

You smirked "A fellow introvert, are not you?"

"Maybe," he giggled and kept smocking, "I did not get your name?"

"Your/F&L/Name, please to meet you, Sebastian." You smiled softly and noticed stars in his eyes.

"Are not you the owner of Bliss, the antique-styled bakery café in New York?" His voice was jammed with excitement.

It surprised you to be personally recognised by a star. It is always the brand that gets the enthusiasm, not you.

"Yes, in the flesh," you shrugged.

He was excited as a child just found his favourite lost toy "I love your patisserie. I even treat myself from Bliss each Sunday."

You were excited that he likes what you serve. "Have you tried our coffee?"

He hesitated "I am a Starbucks guy, sorry."

You laugh "even I, a Starbucks girl, just don't tell my workers." You winked.

"Well, look, I should prepare my surprise for the evening."

The cigarette was almost finished, and the conversation was not over, so as you started walking away, he called you back "Y/A, can I ask you for a favour."

You turned, "anything, Sebastian,"

"Can I take a VIP tour? That special thing, for me, please." He asked with puppy eyes.

He seems to be still nervous about going into the crowd. He is in the sport because of his new PR company. Adding, his ex-girlfriend fame and breakup impact was hard, especially the buzz all over Tumblr. He could not be around the media at that moment.

"Alright, come along, but no cameras or sharing my secrets." You seriously ordered

Indeed, that VIP tour was in a crowded kitchen. Everyone is busy creating a piece of heaven.

"There you are," a young man ran to you. His face draws worrying emotions and anger.

"Frank, what's wrong?"

"It is 30 minutes to delivery."

Frank started walking by your side, describing something that was going wrong and you pointed "we have time"

It surprised Sebastian that Frank did not even notice him. There in the kitchen, you were the star to be followed and the boss to be obeyed.

"Sebastian, I need you to put on gloves and follow my lead"

It surprised him to take orders now

"Frank, you go being the rest of the cupcakes, I am preparing the icing myself."

As Frank left, you give Sebastian an explanation "my staff got something wrong, I have 30 minutes to icing 500 cupcakes."

"This is better than expected. I would love to help." His soothing voice calmed down your anxiety.

He took off his jacket. He looked stunning in everything, as you thought to yourself.

He was laughing and motivating everyone around him "coming people there is a Gala to conquer."

You were icing the side of the cupcake by side, forgetting how exhausting it was to do all of this work in a short time, yet the joy on his face made this worthwhile.

"I don't remember having this much fun in my life," he was icing a chocolate cupcake

"Are you sure this is your first time?" You said playfully

"I don't even know how to cook," he shrugged, "maybe, you can teach me."

The icing went well, but both of you stayed talking and he ignored the time

"Oh, look at the time, I have a to attend that dinner."

He was fixing his clothes and hair, running too fast out of the kitchen. "Thank you Y/A."

You wish for him to stay longer, as he made this chore easier for you, at least mentally.

As he was rushing out "can I book you for a private lesson? A date maybe?"

"I thought you would never ask." Giving him your private card and going back to your staff.

The next morning, he woke up thinking of how alive he felt around Y/A. He juggled her card between his fingers, thinking whether or not to call her. He settled on calling her after mid-day or at lunch.

He took a shower and got prepared for his morning run. It is never too late for one.

He took his usual route of running passing by the Bliss, something made him stop and look for her. Maybe you were tired from all her work, but it is Sunday and he deserves his weekly treat.

Behind the counter there you were, beautiful as he remembers her from the night before.

"May, I have a cupcake please,"

You were busy talking and giving instructions to one of her staff members, yet a familiar voice turned her head "Why not trying the Bakery choice of the day?"

"If the baker herself agrees, then I am sold." He flirted.

"On the house, sir,"

You served him English cake with coffee at his table.

He stood up when you approached "oh God! You brought it yourself!" he tried to give her a hand and serve himself at the table.

"Anything for my favourite guest." You smiled as did not sit.

He was puzzled and clueless "Y/A, wait."

"Anything else?" You smirked at him.

"Will you go out with me tonight, please?" He used the charm of his puppy eyes again.

"I would love to." You glowed.

Later that day, he texted

Sebastian: You did not take my number! 🧁

Y/A: Sebastian, hey, thank you! 🙏🏻

Sebastian: tonight, when and where?

Y/A: Sushi, maybe???

Sebastian: I was thinking of an Italian fancy restaurant, gotta impress the girl. 🤷🏻‍♂️

Y/A: Not this one lolz. Just anything you like. Surprise me.

Sebastian: Fancy, it will be!

Y/A: next time, I am choosing.

Sebastian: there will be next time, huh? 😉

Y/A: haha, I've got to go. Sunday means work.

Sebastian: see ya tonight.

At your house, you are confused about what to wear.

"It is a fancy date with a handsome man that happens to be a star" you were worried, every ex you had was not even close to Sebastian's sweetness. You know that there is always a catch. This time, it might be you and your busy schedule.

You texted him your address. He arrived before his time with ten minutes holding flowers at your door.

He was dressed in a slim fit navy suit without a tie.

"You look beautiful," he complimented your little black dress and heels.

The dinner went well. Both if shared stories from your past, trying to make a career, and how hard the world is becoming.

"Baking is great but applying for investment is hellish," you discussed the situation with coming at the top.

"Your food should be decorated with prizes. I believe you won many."

He teased, as he knew that you were part of a reality show for bakers.

"It was a phase, now this is the real world." You exhaled gloomily.

Your phone ringing cut off your conversation. You excused him for taking this call.

You left the table, yet, arriving with a miserable 10 minutes later.

"Is everything okay?" He nervously asked.

You looked down at your food "I am sorry, Sebastian, I have to go"

You were anxious and irritated

"What's wrong?" He tried to soothe you.

"My angel investor is having a party. He needs me to prepare the cakes and cookies by myself." You were about to cry.

"Okay, you are pressures." He smirked playfully, trying to change your mood.

"He needs them tomorrow by noon." You asserted upon the last word.

"See, I was going to ask you to teach me, so why not today,"

He called for the check.

Sebastian drove you back to your bakery. It was almost empty by that time. Just two workers and you took Sebastian to the kitchen.

You prepared the ingredients on the counters. Sebastian asked if he can help with getting the blenders and mixing bowls. You pointed at a higher shelf opposite to you.

"Thank you, Sebastian," you were about to leave his car.

"Not yet, doll, we have cookies to prepare," he said as the cute dork he is.

You were guiding him to which thing is to add to the blender first and he was a curious student.

"Exactly, why are you hand blending that?" Pointing at the chocolate mixture in front of you.

"Because we make these with a dash of magic and bliss," you spook magically and seriously.

He paused for a moment "and I am not magic"

You raised an eyebrow, "you are my apprentice, yet, hand blend the cookies."

You came by his side, your chest at his back, and guided his arm to hand to blend the cookies.

He was blazing with fire and excitement. Ultimately, he felt at peace.

“An excellent exercise to those guns.” He teased you.

"Not as a baker's," you guided his free hand to something, "now take a pinch of magic... chocolate chips and add them."

Both of you rounded up and finished everything was in the oven. You sat on the floor drinking wine and chatting further, till the alarm of the oven called it done.

"My cookies" Sebastian pulled them out of the over, "taste what the master baked."

"Apprentice," you asserted as you pulled your cakes out of the other oven.

You let everything rest. It was almost the morning.

"They will come I pick them at 9 am, no time for home." You yawned

"Can I drive you?" He yawned too, and his eyes were sleepy.

"Cookie, you looked exhausted." It was the first time to call him so, he was surprised and delighted.

"I have a coach in my office."

Both of you laid tired and exhausted from the long day. Spontaneously he put a kiss on your forehead, you whispered at his lips "I have a better one" you took his lips on your own and shared the sweetest romantic first kiss.

"Sweet dreams, apprentice Cookie." You laid to sleep in his arms.

"Sweet dreams Y/A." He smiled against your lips and laid a kiss goodnight on them.

Yet, Sebastian had to make the last thing before he sleeps.

Guys, I made cookies

That was his message to the group chat with his best friends.

Chris: cookies, is that's a new term for sex?

Anthony: WTH @Cheis. If Sebastian mentions cookies, then he really made cookies.

Sebastian: I baked cookies

Christ: good for you, pal.

Anthony: you are waking me up at 6 in the morning for cookies.

Sebastian: and a kiss.

Anthony: my man, you should have gone for the pussy 💪🏻

Chris: language!

Sebastian: Good night oldie issues and smarty pants. 🤣🤣🤣

Sebastian looked at your peaceful face, laid another kiss on your forehead, then departed into a deep sleep.

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Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy

[dreaminpeaches]

“Ladies, Gentlemen, Enbies...HER--I mean Him? Or them?-- whatever, anyways here's the first part of my daydream paracosm, Humble Pie. I was really happy I was able to come up with the first part in a somewhat cohort manner. Part 2 is also going to follow this sometime soon, but after that its probably just gonna be short shorts, text exchanges, and or drabbles, but that first part’s finally a thing! And that’s cool”

“Also just reminder that this paracosm is set in a mix timeline, like people have flip phones, cassette tapes, but still also have stuff like gamer chairs, and slang like sus/lit exist, so I hope that doesn’t bother you..oof”

“Also I wrote this from my Remarkable, then convert it to text, and did some proof reading, but my handwriting is still can only be read by chickens and my dyslexia ninja has sneak 100 accuracy so..yeah

Word count: 6,115

TW: mention of Bullying, DeadBeat dad, Smoking, Drinking, Swearing (only for comedy’s sake tho’), Dissociation, Guilt (but don’t worry there’s still A LOT of fluff in this piece, tho)

Link to Alternate version on my off-site daydream blog: Humble pie part 1

=================================================================

"Okay, here we go" Beau said, taking one last drag of his cigarette, and taking in one last look at the panoramic view of the town below, Newbury, his hometown, he was away for a year because of college which he dropped out of. Well, "dropout" made it seemed like he had a choice, more like he flunked out, there were' 'reasons that 'made college impossible for Beau, reasons that he couldn't get into or more like reasons he didn't want to get into, these were the some reasons that turned what was suppose to be a 5 hour drive into an 8 hour one, making him stop ever so often to the nearest park, overlook, or clearing to get out, smoke and or take a short walk. These stops were so frequent by the time he reached his hometown’s overlook he was on his last stick, hard to believe he started the trip w/ a full box.

He dropped the last of the remains of the cig on the ground and stomped out the glow ember with his dark brown rounded toed boot, watching the embers glow go out made him feel similar in a way.

Beau took one more last look at the small town below blanketed by the dark, light sky. He looked around. the overlook, bring back memories of. late night make outs, sneak outs and general teenaged shenanigans.

Beau remembers once on a night he was really buzzed, a rare event for him, drinking with his buddies, rather it was the buzz from the beer, or he was just 'riding the 'high off scoring the winning goal for the team, or general teen hormones. He felt invincible, so invincible he stood up on the ledge and proclaimed himself as king of the world

A moment Beau looks back at and shakes his head as if to try to erase the memory from his mind like an etch n’ sketch, suddenly he got a bad taste in his mouth or maybe that's just the cigarettes "King of world….yeah, right" Beau said pulling up the collar of his jacket and shrugging his hands into his pockets, and headed back into the car.

It was getting late and there was no use in stalling any longer, might as well continue to the inevitable. Stalling may be that’s the feeling that's been following him the whole time, stalling the fact that he would have to return to his hometown a failure after being touted and praised for being a star athlete , and getting into a ivy league school, a feat his mom was really proud since she herself couldn't go to college because of having Beau at such a young age, and having to deal with a bunch of other “BS” as Beau would put it.

Beau really wanted to make her proud by becoming a famous football player and make tons of money so she wouldn't ever have to worry about bills n 'stuff and live in the malibu dream house she dreamed of living in since she was a kid, a dream she would talk about to her children like it was fairytale during when time got real tough.Even though she sounded upbeat over the phone about the news, Beau knew his mom was an expert when it came to masking her disappointment and skill that was pretty integral with dealing Beau's birth father. He just hopes she's not too disappointed

As the twilight sky grew more dark the street lights flickered on. Familiar and nostalgic landmarks and structures rolled by as Beau drove by with one hand gripping the wheel while the other hand hung casually out of the rolled down window. the nighttime breeze gentle, tossing his cart dirty blond hair mullet. The 'murmur of punk music lighty playing from the car's speaker, that was playing louder earlier but the volume's quickly depleted because blasting punk 'music at night in a small town is pretty serious offensive a risk, a younger Beau would play around with, but now being older he knows better.

Driving into his old neighborhood, seemingly not much has changed, but what do you expect from a small town? The old neighborhood consisted of typical signatures of most middle upper class .. neighborhoods, Christmas ' decorations long over due to be taken down, manicured lawns, next to slightly less manicured lawns. Some lawns adored w/ gnomes and flamingos, a step up from the lawns of homes in his childhood neighborhood whose homes had what one could consider a lawn but just barely, Beau and his brother were lucky enough to have a sizable back yard and a tree house.

His family's lawn had a bunch of outdoor toys laid about on their lawn: a nerf gun, a pink tricycle, a tiled dyed color bouncy ball and an empty container of mega bubble wand. Beau drove up in the driveway being careful to not accidentally run over any of the toys in the yard.

He eject the mixtape from the player and put it into his jacket chest pocket. Beau leaned over and rummaged through the glove compartment fishing out a small travel can of axe's body spray and another small spray can of mouthwash, he used both to cover the scent of cigarette smoke, a smell his mother was highly sensitive to. He popped in a stick of spearmint for extra measure before getting out of the car and going to the trunk to retrieve his suitcase. Beau only had one suitcase since all the stuff really needed and cared about conveniently fitted in one suitcase.

Beau propped up his suitcase as he closed the trunk, the car beeped and blinked as he pressed the lock button. He headed up the pathway to the front door, his heart beating louder and louder with each step leading up to the front door.

Beau took a deep breath, Pulling himself together. "Okay" He said under his breath as his hand slowly reach for the knob but before he could even get a good grip, the door swung open, Beau's eyes raced up to see the thinning hair of a middle aged man, Beau eyes lowered a bit more to see the mustached clad face of the man the hair belonged to. "Hey, Big Boss! '' the mustache man said with a grin. The man was Beau's stepfather, David.

"Hello, David, I-I mean Dad." Beau awkwardly greeted his stepdad, trying his best not to show discomfort at his step dad's “nickname" for him.

"Ha, ha that's okay, son!”David laughed, giving Beau a hefty pat on the back.

"Here, let me get your bags." David said, reaching for Beau's suitcase, looking behind Beau expecting more bags

“You only brought one bag?" he questioned, looking curiously.

'--I like to be efficient" Beau muttered with a shrug and a side glance. "HAHA you and me both, Big B" David chuckled playful elbowing Beau, who gave a half-smile and a small chuckle--well, more like a slight nose huff

"Hey, honey Big B is home!" David shouted as Beau closed the front door.

His mother came rushing from the bedroom in her rose pink robe w/a barbie in insignia on the front with matching fuzzy slippers, her sandy blond hair still damp from the shower.

"My little boy, oh!" she said, warping Beau in a tight motherly embrace. "Welcome home!" Beau's mother pulled back for a second, cupping her son's face in her hands “you’re still so handsome"

"Wait..." Beau gently removed his mom's hands from his face "Are you okay, mom?" He asked his considerate brown eyes searching his mother's teal eyes for any sign of distress.

"Of course, sweetie," his mom beamed. "I have all of my loved ones under one roof. What's more to ask?"

it's just that I didn't- Y-you know." Beau said with downcast eyes

"Oh, that" his mom said wide eyes and then shaking her head in dismissed

"Don't worry about not finishing college, I mean just look at me"

“But You just seemed so proud that I got in, I just didn't want to let you down"

“Sweetie, it's fine," his mom said, gently guiding his head up with her hand to look at him "I was not proud that-You were becoming the smart, sweet kind young man, I always knew you were, but now. I'm just happy that you’re here and I get to see you go. on the journey myself!" Beau chuckled tightly and blushed at his mom's admiration.

"Plus, Your mom's not the only one who is happy to have You home!” David said, gesturing towards the hallway. Beau looked to see a small figure peeking from the corner, the figure quickly disappeared followed by an overflow of giggles.

A smile slowly creeped across Beau's face, he slowly kneeled down. " "Gasp * Is that my little care bear?"

From the shadows totted out, a little girl dressed in a blue care bear patterned nightgown, her blonde hair tied up in pigtails, she grasped a love-a-lot bear in one arm while her other arm was open as she raced towards Beau, also with arms wide open for a hug "Bo-Bo"

"Hey, care bear!" Beau cooed as he picked up his little sister "Wow, You've gotten so big since the last time I saw you!

"Carrie's been asking when you were coming since you told us you were coming home "David stated

"Really?"

"Yep!'' Carrie nodded proudly "You still have the love-a lot bear I won at grad night". Beau vividly remembers winning Love A Lot and his friends making fun of him, but Carrie really appreciated it more than he thought.

"Yeah, she takes it with her everywhere!" mom emphasized “Thank god, the kindergarten has a security blanket policy!

"Aww..." Beau said fondly looking at Carrie, who had her head resting on his shoulder, still grasping love a lot.

Beau thought for a moment and looked around "wait, where Dev?"

"Oh" mom said putting her hand on her head with a semi sigh "He's been going through... things"

"Teenager things: David specified "He's the big one three now.. "

“Don't worry, I can talk to him!”Beau said, confidently, slowly nodding his head

. Carrie lets out a small yawn "Aw, you sleepy, care bear?" Beau asked as Carrie rubbed her eyes

"It's past her bedtime, but she really wanted to see you," Mom said, stroking Carrie's hair. "Is someone ready for the sleep shuttle'?" Beau asked Carrie, looking at her in her sleepy hazel eyes, she nodded in response

"Alright, Here we go!" Beau held Carrie in both hands placing his arms out in front of him, he kneeled down and started counting down. "3…..2...1. Blast off!"

Beau shot Carrie in the as he stood back up. As he moved towards Carrie's bedroom, he moved all around side to side, up and down while making spaceship sounds, Carrie was giggling all the way through.

"Incoming! "Beau shouted as he swooshed Carrie round a few more times before landing her swiftly on the bed.

"Huston, the eagle. has landed!." Beau said, holding his ear as if he had an earpiece "Not eagle! Bear!" Carrie stated holding up her care bear "correction, the "BEAR" has landed!" Beau correcting himself, bringing a huge smile to her face as she nuzzled her care bear

"Okay, night, right, care bear" Beau said patting carries head

"Wait!" Carrie said holding on to her brother's arm "Is Bo-Bo still gonna be here in the Morning?""Of course, I'm not going anywhere at least for a while.." "Beau said, kneeling down to Carrie's eye level.

"Okay, I like having Bo-Bo around:'' Carrie said "and I like being around" Beau said, "see you in the morning, care bear" Beau gives Carrie a good night kiss on the forehead.

She settles into bed as Beau closes the door. Beau grinned to himself, feeling lucky to have such a cute sister. He remembers when Devin was that little, speaking of Dev. Beau apphoraced Dev's bedroom door. The door was caution tape, Don't enter signs, with a please knock before entering sign.

At first Beau did think about knocking but then thought "I could be a respectful older brother respect the sign or I could have fun and be a little shit. He pondered about it for a minute then-"yeah, I'm gonna be a little shit.”

Beau took a card out his wallet and wedged it in between the door to jimmied the lock. He peeked through the door to see Dev playing a video game on the tv. "you little..." Beau said under his breath, before bombastically opening the door "Hey there, squirt!" Beau said, shoving the door open

"Didn't you read the sign?!" Dev said as he turned around in his gamer chair in both shock-and annoyance

"Wow, that's a pretty warm welcome to give your older brother you haven't seen in a year!" Beau snarked, pretending to look hurt'' "Nice to see you too!"

"Oh my god!" Dev said, rolling his eyes and turning his chair back to tv, bringing his attention back to the game.

"and here I thought you were working on a project or homework or some school shit!" Beau continued "but no, you're just sitting here playing one of your little nerd games"

"Oh my god, can't you just leave!" Dev groaned as he hunching closer to the tv.

"You couldn't at least say "Hi" " Beau said now standing right behind Dev gamer chair

Dev raised and waved his hand half-heartedly and flatly said "hi"

"Well, damn I feel loved," Beau said sarcastically. "aren't you at least gonna look at me?" shaking the gaming chair a bit to gain an ounce of his little brother’s attention.

“ I saw you "Kool aid man" into my room. Is that enough?" Dev said still focusing on the game Beau sighed, then got an idea "Dev! Dev! I think there's something wrong with my heart I think I gonna-ugh!" He said staggering forward a bit before falling in Dev's lap, knocking out the game controller out of Dev's hands.

"Come on! I was in the middle of battle!" Dev whined looking at his brother playing dead

"Get off of me!" Dev go armed as he tried to push beau off with no luck

"Come on, Beau!" He gored in frustration “I know you're not dead! I can still feel your heartbeat..."

Get up!" Beau remained still, Dev rolled his eyes; he knew the exact words to get his brother off his back or in this case lap.

"Big brother, can you please get off of me n Dev utter begrudgingly "Aw, you haven't call me ‘Big brother’ in years" Beau chimed with a smile, finally getting up "I'm still kind of hurt, that you cared about your gaming progress than the well being for your one and only big brother"

"You were still breathing, I could literally see you inhaling and exhaling." Dev clarified rubbing his forehead

"Touche, I guess" Beau said he then directed Dev's chair in front his bed," now that I have your attention"

"Okay, I guess I should say sorry since you couldn't and say "hi" to me because you were too busy saving some elf princess, or some anime chick with huge melons"

"I-H-Hey I don't even play those types of games!" Dev argued blushing

" .-sure you "don't'." Beau taunted with a wink, Dev goanned "Anyways, Anyways you don't have to say "hi",; but you could at least not talk to me"

Beau suggested, shrugging. "I guess" Dev mumbled kind of sinking into his chair "cool, so how's life?" Beau started, trying to start a diagoul "okay"

"How's school?"

"Okay"

"How’re your friends?"

"Okay"

"Got a girlfriend?"'

"NO”

"Got a boyfriend?"

N-NO"

"Got any crushes"

“….NO…..."

"joined any clubs or any other after school junk?"

" ..... NO..."

"Are you just gonna answer all my questions in one word?"

Dev fell quiet, and shifted his gaze from his brother

“Okay, that's it!" Beau huffed, he picked up Dev and hoasted him over his shoulder "Hey! put me down!" Dev-shouted , beating his fists on Beau's back "Not until you talk to me like an actual person, and one worded answers aren't gonna cut it, squirt!"

"MOM! Dad!"

"Mom and Dav-Dad are fast asleep, and you know they both sleep like rocks!" Beau stated'' the only person you'll wake up is Carrie, and You don't want to wake little care bear, now do YOU?"

Dev fell Quiet again, "You know I can hold you like this for hours, you aren't really that heavy, or you can just end this and talk to me" Beau suggested ending the suggestion with a sigh and started to stomp his foot impatiently..

Dev continued the silent treatment for a bit until letting out a meek "Okay...I'll try" .

Hey, three words, that's a start!" Beau cheekly commented,He sat Dev back down in his green gamer chair.

"Okay, do over!" Beau said casually sitting across from Dev and his bed. "so, how's school going?" "F-fine” Beau gave Dev a intense look, reminding Dev of his word count “N-no, I mean it's just weird" Dev stuttered choosing his words carefully, Dev fiddled with his hoodie sleeves.

"and it's weird because..." Beau initiated, gesturing his hand toward encouraging Dev to continue "It's weird because.... I don't know, Middle school is way different than 'elementary school, I mean I knew that from tv, but middle school isn't like tv."

"It's okay, nothing like tv, that thing lies” Beau softly chuckled to himself and continued “I remember thinking Pogo sticks were the SHIT-cuz 'of people and cartoons on tv made it look so easy"

"I finally got enough money for one-- you were like little you probably don’t remember this-- but I was SO HYPED, I wanted mom to watch me. I took one hop, fell on my ass, and never hopped on that bitch again. I was pissed, I think mom was trying to her best not to laugh but I was so pissed I think I didn’t notice until now. I chucked the pogo stick in the garage, and I never looked at that bitch again”

Dev let out a stiff laugh, the defensive wall Dev put was slowly breaking

"Oh WAIT WAIT!” Beau said taking a moment to correct himself “ That WASN’T the last time the last time I looked that bitch, I fished it out of garage years later, only cuz’ I need some money for Madden. So, I did look at that bitch one more time, but only to sell that bitch.”

Dev let out a more audible laugh, but quickly caught himself and recollected, returned to his disillusioned teenage state.

"Anyway, The teacher's are kind of weird, like a lot of them hate my guts already, except for the coaches who are super nice to me." Dev explained, kind of looking away from his brother

"Weird, why do you think that is?" Beau asked whole hearty

"Because I'm related to you, Numb skull!" Dev blunted , groaning putting his hand on his forehead

"Oh damn, I guess that's my fault." Beau realized, rubbing the back of his neck "My bad. that my awesomeness is just lengardy"

Dev shook his head and rolled his eyes "It's not awesome to live in YOUR shadow!" Dev sulked, sinking back into his chair, his hands covering his face.

"You don't have to follow in my awesomeness, I know I'm a hard act to follow." Beau boasted teastingly so"You just gotta make your own awesomeness."

"What does that even mean?" Dev questioned, moving his hands down, allowing his eyes to peek through his fingers, trying not to given the urge to roll his eyes

"It's like my awesomeness comes from my boyish charm and good looks..." Beau claimed, striking an award winning smile, The urge not to roll his eyes was becoming even hard for Dev, but he still had to try and respect Beau "But your awesomeness could come from being good at games, or computers shit or math or robots or something--I don't know something real nerdy"

"I guess, you're right" Dev mumbled and shrugged,lifting himself up back into a sitting position rather than almost spilling out of his chair.

"Its not a guess, its science!" Beau declared proudly, tapping his temple with his index finger

"No,that's not science!" Dev arguing his brother's stupidity, flatly shaking his head in disagreement

"See, there you go using your nerd awesomeness" Beau pointed out with a wink "Keep that up and you'll go from Beau's lil bro, to just ‘Dev’ in no time." Beau playful tousled Devs mop dirty blonde hair

"I mean.." Dev continued batting his brother's hand away, "I was also thinking of joining the video game club or the robotics club at school."

"There you go another nerdy thing that to add to your own awesomeness" Beau said

"Yeah...." Dev continued ignoring his brother's comment' “Some of my friends are thinking about joining, and it would be a nice place to go away from mom and dad."

"I had sick memories of hanging out with the team, we got into some wild shit." Beau said laughing to himself, fondly reminiscing "But I'm sure you and you geek squad could have "wild" times too, like making an anime robot 'weify." or whatever those called or finding a new math formula or something"

Dev fell quiet for another moment, Beau always seems like he’s in between being supportive and subtly roasting him, Dev then uttered "um... I think I kind of have a crush... on a girl..."

"AYE, let's go! "Beau exclaimed, clapping and shaking Dev's chair for a bit before bouncing back on the bed'' Come on, don't leave me hanging, what's her name? "Have you talked to her vet? Have you asked her out? Have-"

"Calm down!" Dev demanded "I said I had a crush, I didn't say we’re going out.'"

"Oh, so you haven’t talked to her, huh?”

"No, I-I don't even know her name" Dev huffed, he let his arms slip into his oversize sleeves and covered his sleeves with his face in frustration.

"You know you could just ask, not the chick, like just ask around"

"I can't do that because if I do, people will find out I like her and if she finds out, I would just have to stop going to school!”

"Okay, let’s just pretend you DO have the balls to talk to this girl, what's the worst that could happen?" Beau suggested

"She finds out that I like her, thinks I'm weird and never wants to talk to me again or even look at me!” Dev muffled through his sleeved covered face

"You really think she can sus that out all in one go!" Beau said "I mean she is a middle Schooler unless she's like a young nancy drew, she is not going to chew you up and spit out like that." Beau explained "speaking of which''

Beau paused for a moment to spit out his gum into the trash can "Score!"

"Anyways, have you done anything weird to her or around her?"

"No, I mean I look at her in the hallways before and in between class, but I don't like-- stalk her or anything too weird." Dev mumbled, moving his sleeves from his face, but his head was still targeted down at his fingers fiddling with a tag on his black shorts

"So, then what's the fear?" Beau inquired, resting his chin on the heel of his palm

Dev thought for a moment, his eyes shifting looking for an answer." I-I guess I just don't know how to talk to her."

"Well, fuck, that's easy" Beau chuckled “Just talk about school shit, or just say "hi"

"Is it really that easy?"

"Yeah, if you have the balls for it" Beau reiterated "Think about it like this, the dudes you play in your little nerd games have to fight a dragon, a demon or some anime witch with huge melons to talk to the girl they like and they er brave enough to do all of that wacky shit. But you’re lucky, you don't have a dragon for real in your way to keep you talking from your crush. The dragon's just in your head! If those hero dudes can fight dragons they actually can see, doesn't that mean you can fight a dragon you don't even see."

"That was a really lame and kind of confusing metaphor" Dev sassed " But I guess understand what your trying to say"

"Exactly" Beau said nodding confidentiality

"Can we talk about mom and dad?" Dev asked sheepishly, looking up at his brother, (well as much as he could with his shaggy bangs in the way), his fingers now toying with his hoodie strings

"Did something happen?"

"No, I mean yeah, I mean it's just weird" Dev said "Mom and dad are starting to get more annoying but I don't know if they were always like that or they like charged"

"No, parents don't really change-usually” Beau explained “It's just that being a teenager makes you hypersensitive to a bunch of shit and makes you wanna be alone more. Parents, the good ones like spending time with their kids and they actually want quality time n' shit and that's where they start to get annoying".

“"Oh okay,” Dev nodded.'' It's just weird because sometimes I feel like I hate them, but I don't want to. I think I just really want to be alone more like you said but I don't want to shut them out, I just want them to get that." Dev-fiddles with the strings of his green hoodie

"Yeah, I think they do in a weird old people kind of way. Believe it or not they were teenagers to even if that was back in the stone age n' shit" Beau joke"

Dev let out an actual laugh, a sign to Beau that he's little bro was being less of a moody teenager

"Anyway, even with that said mom and david-I mean dad aren't mind readers, it would be cool if you give them a heads up, you don't have to tell them all about what's going on in your little teen nerd brain but at least something simple like something weird or funny that happened at school, or asking for help on homework or a project for class or some shit like that, I'm pretty sure Dav-dad would love that.."

"I guess I could try". Dev said slightly nodding his head "But Carrie is kind of weird too!

"How can Carrie be weird, she's 5.” Beau scoffed "she doesn't do anything weird really"

Dev added" it's just sometimes she's regular cute and other times she's annoyingly cute if that makes sense"

"I mean like kind of get what you're saying but "Beau shrugged gesturing his hand toward prompting Dev to continue

"Like I still look out for her because she little, but because she's little that means I have to do dumb stuff like look for monsters under her bed or do that sleep shuttle thing you do, but I can't really do it because my arms give out halfway through and she's heavier than she looks."

"Well, little brothers and sisters are annoying, it's kind of their job, trust me I know from experience" Beau: put his hand on Dev's knee, Dev tried to Swat at it but Beau quickly put his hand back with a smirk.

"But like with mom and da-David just cuz she's annoying doesn't mean You can’t look out for her n stuff"

"I guess, its because lately, it seems like'' Dev paused 'for a beat, his hands hard gripping the strings of his hoodie, before continuing" I don't know mom and dad have been paying more attention to her than me"

A mischievous smile creeps across his face. "AW does someone miss being the baby?"'

"Oh, fuck! I knew you 'er gonna say that!" Dev blurted out, feeling really exposed, he pulled his hoodie strings allowing his head to be consumed by his hoodie, all but his nose.

"Hey! language,” Beau said, surprised at his little brother's reaction those harsh words coming out of the mouth of small boy sporting a Yoshi hoodie

"You cuss' all the time!" Dev huffed pulling his hoodie back down, then crossing his arm definitely

"Yeah, but I'm older than you, and if mom and David--DAD hear you curse they’er gonna know you got it from me and won't get off my ass about it!"

Dev stared at his brother, simmering in frustration in failing to coming up w/a good come back or a flaw in his brother's logic, He let out a heavy sigh and resumed "Anyways, it's NOT like I miss being the baby, I just miss being able to hold their attention without Carrie coming in and stealing them anyway, I don't know its weird"

"Wait, did you just say that you wanted to be alone and away from mom and David-fuck. I'm not even gonna try more-he's asleep anyways." giving up any attempt to make the word "Dad" same with the name "David"

"Yeah, I know that's what makes it weird!" Dev admitted, he sulked back deeper into his chair and let out a groan.

"You know Carrie's not awake all the time, maybe you can talk to mom and David, when she goes down for her nap, hell, I could just take her to the park for a day." Beau offered

"You'd really do that for me?" Dev peeped, quickly lifting himself up in a sitting position, surprised at his brother kind offer

"Yeah, anything to make you less of a weird angsty shut in, with a bunch of cringy keep out signs and keep out tape!" Beau gestured towards the door

"Actually, I got that caution tape from a real crime scene" Dev clarified, with a smug smile

"Really?" Beau taking a longer closer look at the door

"No, thick head, I found it in a dumpster next to party city!"

"You go dumpster diving?" Beau said, raising an eyebrow

"I have a life outside of YOU!" Dev stated proudly

"Okay, and on that... Weird garbage goblin flex, sibling bonding time is over." Beau said getting up from the bed and heading for the door

"Actually, one more thing..." Beau said quickly, turning around, rushing towards Dev, putting him into a headlock.

"Did ya miss me? Come on, tell me that you missed me!" Beau taunted as he gave his brother a long and through noogie "Ouch, Ow, Ow, Okay, okay, I missed You. Geez:" Dev pleaded trying to struggle out of his brother's grip

"That's what I wanted to hear!" Beau said with a smirk, letting 'Dev go.

"Ugh! my hair" Dev fumed , gawking at his even more messy mop of hair.

"Like you care about appearances" Beau chuckled" mop top nerd!"

"Mullet-hair metal meathead!"

"Ouch, that was pretty good" Beau teased pretending to look hurt "Garbage Goblin"

"You already-"Dev started but was cut off by Beau closing the door

"Too late, the door is closed, I can't hear you, which means I win!" Beau said through the door, laughing at his brother's muffled fury of frustration.

Beau grinned relishing in the absolute confusion of his younger brother, but that good vibe quickly faded once he arrived at the door to his old bedroom. He just stood there and stared at the door for a bit, he could feel the icky stew of the emotions from bubbling back up again.

He flexed his hand a few times as if this was the first time he's ever pored a door, Beau's hand reached for the door handle before retracted as if the knob was red hot.

Beau sheepishly looked around as if somebody was watching him, no one was but it sure did feel like it. He considered sleeping on the couch, but that would be weird, since it seemed like his step dad put his luggage in his room. so, eventually he would have to go into his room anyway.

Beau took a deep breath. "Come on, it's just a door, dude!" He told himself Beau's hand rested on the door knob, he took another deep, his hand gained a stronger grip, and he slowly pushed the door open, Beau carefully entered the room as he closed the door behind him. Looking around the room was plaster with posters of football players and a few pinups of doe-eye, sensual women in swimsuits and other scantily clad outfits.

Athletic medals, trophies and awards displayed proudly on his bookshelf that lacked any actual books, those trophies stood next to pictures of Beau with his teammates, all illuminated by the moon's dull pale blue light. These relics of what felt like a bygone era used to fill Beau with so much pride and joy but looking at them now just leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

He could barely even recognize himself in those photos. This whole room felt like a shrine or more like a tomb to someone who no longer exists.

Looking at all this stuff just made the icky feelings from before rise up to the back of his throat making the bad taste linger even longer.

Beau couldn't really pin what-these feelings were, so he shifted his focus on just getting some sleep

As he thought, Beau's step dad put his luggage on his bed. He opened his bag and quickly changed into a white tank top and some grey sweatpants. He fished out the mix tape from his jean jacket and put into the gray clucky music player on his nightstand. Beau turns the music up loud enough for him to hear but not loud enough for disturb anyone else. Heavy metal music (ironally) helped him sleep on hard nights.

Beau laid in bed focusing on the one spot in his room that wasn't decorated with high school memorabilia. Focusing on that spot was way better than focusing on the icky feelings from earlier. All he needed to was focus on sleep just sleep, Beau closed his eyes and tried to focus on just sleep.

The next time Beau opened his eyes, he was back in the hallway of his highschool. Beau looked around confused why he was back here but before he could really sus out the situation, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud. He followed the sound of the thud that led to a scene of a bespectacled student being shoved up against the lockers. The student's face contorted by fear.

"P-please, d-don't hurt me. "the student uttered, the words quivering as it left his lips.

"Aww, look at him, guys." a familiar voice said, Beau couldn't see whom the voice belonged to. There was a strange mist in the hallway that obscured the person's face.-

"He's scared." the voice said mockly, the person nodded towards a group of people whose faces were also obscured by the mist, they laughed in response

“Don't worry, little buddy, I'm not gonna hurt ya:" the person taunted as he tightened his grip on the student and shoved his body up against the failing student. "As long as you don't squeal" .

"You squeal, and I'll fry you like the pig you are, got it. Swine?"

"I-I p-promise I W-won't. J-just please let me go!" the student begged

Beau was disturbed by scene happening before him, but along with the feel of disgust came a feeling of familiarity, like he's been there before

Just then the fog lift to reveal the face of a younger version of Beau dawned in his red “New Burny High school” letterman jacket. He was smirking relish in the fear he was inflicting on the poor student.

Older Beau slowly back up, almost stumbling as he was coming to the realization of the origin of all those icky feelings from before

"I don't know, do we trust him, guys?" Younger beau asked cocking his head back to his teammates, who shook their head in disagreement "The Boys and I don't seem very sure of that, I think I'm gonna have to test your loyalty !" Younger Beau winded up his arm for a punch, But before his fist could make an impact.

Beau found himself back in his room in a cold sweat, hyperventilating as quickly rose from his bed. His room, still illuminated by the moonlight, with the metal mix tape softly playing in the background. He looked at his hand as if they were lethal weapons. How could I do such a thing?

[uwua3]

imposter.

🌸🎮 chigasaki itaru

summary: rule #1 — never take off your helmet

dedication: shy anon 🧡 :)

warnings: angst, betrayal, death(s), gore, heartbreak, lying

author’s note: this is set in an among us universe :D please be mindful of the concept of the game as you progress forward in the writing! this is an overdue halloween–piece that will bring the chills even in november! (this is the first time i’ve written in first person... :O) ♡ to shy, i hope you especially like this!

word count: 2,550

music: hit and run – lolo, as the world caves in – matt maltese

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

October 31, 20XX ☆ 05:24

There is only one rule on the spaceship everyone follows: NEVER TAKE OFF YOUR HELMET.

Ever since the report of an alien specimen being on board, the entire crew has made it mandatory that we remain in uniform. I’ve slowly forgotten the faces of my crewmates, all I can see is the color of their astronaut suits. Every day is the same: waking up to do tasks, all whilst hoping not to die.

Luckily, we haven’t had to call an emergency meeting in months. Or, so I believe. Time passes differently in the middle of the solar system. How long has it been since I’ve talked to someone outside of maintaining the ship? Days, weeks, months, years? The threat of an invader walking among us has taken over our ship for the worst.

I have to do my tasks now.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 1, 20XX ☆ 06:30

Today, a new crew member joined us! From what the captain told us, he goes by the name Taruchi. He wears an orange uniform and doesn’t seem to talk much, only really spends time on his government-assigned phone.

I’ve introduced myself to Taruchi at the mandatory staff meeting, but he didn’t seem to be too interested. He just nodded and went back to tapping away on his screen, playing something that looked like shooting asteroids.

To be honest, no one knows exactly why it took this long to replace White, who was tragically murdered by the Imposter not too long ago. I assume it’s because no one wants to work on a spaceship where the alien is still on board. Taruchi’s got guts, that’s for sure. Or, maybe…

Is it just me… or is Taruchi sus?

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 2, 20XX ☆ 15:43

Red died.

Right before the lights had to be fixed in Electrical, I noticed an orange suit out of the corner of my eye. Taruchi leaned against the wall in the Storage corridor, right beneath the blinking security camera. He was on his phone again, almost pulling it out of his pocket before stopping, looking up to meet my gaze.

I swear my heart stop. Even with both of our helmets on, I could feel the piercing stare of this unknown crew member. Taruchi straightened his posture, and I could feel how tall he truly was. He tilted his head, presumably looking me up and down before tapping a button on his phone. The last thing I felt was the unfamiliar buzz of notification against my belt strap before it went all dark for a few minutes.

Red’s body was reported by Purple in Electrical, a location Taruchi and I were just around the corner of. By the time everyone entered the Cafeteria to vote, Purple’s finger was pointed directly at me. It was the first time I’ve been accused of being the Imposter. Purple, a friend who I had known ever since we both joined this Skeld map together, thought I had murdered Red in cold blood.

Taruchi spoke up for the first time since he arrived. His voice was smooth with a tone of calmness that fit his casual stance around the ship. Taruchi jumped so easily into the conversation, I couldn’t help but stare in awe while he sat beside me.

“They were with me in Storage, they’re safe.” Taruchi vouched for me, turning the conversation to a dead end. We all ended up agreeing to skip the vote, even if it was against Purple’s will at the end. When we rushed to finish our tasks for the day, all I remember was Purple staring at me for a moment too long before heading in the direction of the Upper Engine.

It was just Taruchi and me in the Cafeteria with the emergency button going through its cooldown again. I nearly couldn’t believe it, I was suspected. I would have to be careful of where I was next time.

Taruchi turned towards me as if wanting to say something, before sighing and shaking his head. He moved to stand up and stopped by the entrance to Medbay, turning around while knocking his knuckles onto the wall once as if he already didn’t have my undivided attention.

 “Be careful, okay? There’s an Imposter among us.” I swore I could see him wink before he disappeared. Taruchi’s words didn’t leave me for the rest of the day because I had realized something.

We haven’t had a death in so long, until Taruchi arrived.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 5, 20XX ☆ 17:12

One crewmate had died today: Purple.

It was a hit and run in the Lower Engine. At the second body reporting of the day, Cyan claimed they were on cams duty in Security, but they didn’t see a thing. Purple was found in the Lower Engine in the lowest corridor to the left, making it an easy kill for the Imposter. Once I had found out the news, I was the immediate suspect.

If it wasn’t for Taruchi again, I would’ve been kicked out into space. I would’ve been the third death, but Taruchi had once again saved me.

 Prior to Purple’s death, I was in the Reactor trying to start it. Taruchi walked into the room, nearly making me yell out of shock from how quiet he was. Taruchi raised his hands as if trying to prove he was innocent, helping me up from the ground with a small laugh.

 “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, you’re okay.” Taruchi reassured me, making sure I could stand on my own two (2) feet before letting me go. For some reason, even if every sign pointed to him being the Imposter, I believed him. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, nodding as I managed to thank him. Taruchi just waved his and, signaling for me to not worry about it as he caught sight of the keypad in front of me.

“Oh? You got the ‘Start Reactor’ task, hm?” Taruchi said, moving in closer to see my progress. I hadn’t even started yet, and that became embarrassingly obvious once Taruchi let out another laugh.

“You haven’t started? How long have you worked here?” Taruchi joked, knocking his fist into my helmet lightly as if to tease me. I swatted back, trying not to show I was flustered beneath my mask. Though, sometimes it felt like Taruchi could see right through me despite only being here for four (4) days or so.

“I’ve always been awful at patterns.” I admitted quietly, looking away as Taruchi tried to hold in his laughter this time around. It took a moment for him to compose himself before Taruchi exaggerated a sigh, taking my position and pressing in the pattern quickly without even hesitating.

Right as it reached the fifth stage, Taruchi looked over his shoulder to hold his hand out. “You have to clean up the Halloween decorations around the ship with me or else I’ll leave you to this task alone.” Taruchi compromised, waiting for me to accept this dal as the timer began counting down.

 “Taruchi, you’re kidding.” You paused, waiting for him to say he was joking but that moment never came. Cleaning around the Skeld was the worst job possible, even if it got me out of a day of tasks. Before the last second disappeared, I took his hand with a loud “Fine!” and his other hand entered the code without even looking at the same time. Gamer hands were impressive, to say the least.

“Good little astronaut.” Taruchi patted my helmet as I watched the taskbar go up on my phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the Cafeteria at 0800, then, little one.”  

Before I could respond to the new nickname, both Taruchi and I’s phone screens lit up with the notification of Brown reporting Purple’s corpse.

Taruchi’s fingers tensed around his device as he looked at me solemnly. “I’ll defend you in Cafeteria, don’t worry about it.” Taruchi promised, leaving first as I regained my senses and followed after him.

Taruchi lived up to his word, even when Yellow brought up how Purple was dead after accusing me a few days ago.

“Purple’s dead after they targeted you? Seems sus to me.” Yellow scoffed, kicking their feet up onto the table and crossing their arms. Murmurs spread around the cafeteria table, my own crew mates beginning to further doubt my allegiance.

“They just did a task in Reactor. Can’t you see it in the taskbar?” Taruchi retorted back, holding up his own screen as evidence. The rest of the crew checked to confirm, and voiced their agreement.

“How did you know that, Orange?” Blue questioned out of nowhere, leaning forward to stare at Taruchi and me. I didn’t know what to say, should I admit I was with Taruchi or would that make both of us seem suspicious?

“Stalked them from the vents, of course.”

It went so silent I could hear the beeping from navigation. Everyone was looking at Taruchi at this point. The vent from Lower Engine did lead to Reactor… but, that made no sense. Taruchi had walked into the entrance, he didn’t vent up.

“Haha, just kidding.” Taruchi said after a moment too long, leading to everyone relaxing after an uncomfortable but relieved sigh. I didn’t know why I didn’t defend Taruchi immediately, except... I did. I just didn’t want to say it out loud. Even I wasn’t sure if Taruchi was another Impostor or not.

Two (2) imposters on one (1) ship… I shuddered at the thought.

Once again, we ended up skipping. I think the crew was afraid of what would happen if we lost another innocent. Everyone else left to mourn yet another death as Taurchi and I stayed behind again.

Taruchi couldn’t be Imposter. Not when I felt this safe with him. Taruchi was the one to stand up first again after he noticed I wasn’t saying anything. This time, he leaned over me instead.

“Your helmet isn’t put on right, it’s not adjusted correctly.” Taruchi reminded me, fixing it so we both could hear the latches hook onto the helmet. I wondered what his hands would feel like without those orange gloves, but, I nodded instead.

“Remember tomorrow, here, 8, got it?” When I nodded again, he laughed. It was a sound that made me feel relaxed even when the rest of the crew was on high alert.

“It’s a date, then.” Taruchi added on before strolling out towards his dorms, I assume. I just waved goodbye before freezing. Huh? What did that mean? Was it actually a date?

Even when my crew mates were facing the threat of death, I couldn’t help but get excited over seeing Taruchi tomorrow morning.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 6, 20XX ☆ 12:07

Taruchi took off his helmet today.

He said to stop calling him that alias, his real name is Chigasaki Itaru. Itaru… I like that more than Taruchi.

His eyes are the same color as Pink’s uniform, with blonde hair that fell over his forehead after wearing his helmet all day. When Itaru saw me stare, he smiled and it only made my heart beat faster.

“Uh oh. Does someone have to go to MedBay to check their vitals?” Itaru joked, nudging me with his helmet. Itaru had broken rule #1 of the spaceship, he had taken off his helmet… for me.

“See? I told you I wasn’t Imposter. I could tell you were thinking that, but, I promise, I’m on your side.” Itaru didn’t ask me to take off my helmet. He just put his back on and we continued taking down the Halloween decorations.

Taruchi—no, Itaru, wasn’t an Imposter. I knew that for a fact.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 15, 20XX ☆ 02:52

I really like Itaru. I want to play this game with him forever, but, I can’t.

YOUR LOG. STARDATE:

November 24, 20XX ☆ 23:11

Itaru and I were watching the stars as we patrolled Navigation for the night. As we slowly made our way through time and space itself, I could hear Itaru turn on automatic cruise control. I looked towards him as he yawned despite being the biggest night owl on the ship.

When Itaru took off his helmet and shook his head, fixing his hair in the process, he leaned back in his pilot seat with a lazy smile.

“Me, you, and the stars. What could be better than this?” Itaru sighed, as if at peace after leaving the tense atmosphere of the ship. Now that it was night, the suspicion was asleep as everyone took their appropriate night shifts.

Underneath the starlight, I couldn’t help but admire him yet again. Itaru was beautiful and I found myself subconsciously smiling at him like a fool. Itaru glanced at the sky before meeting my sight, seemingly lost in a daze for a second before swearing, taking his feet off the control panel.

“I can’t see you, but goddamn it, I want to kiss you so bad.” Itaeu put his head in his hands, his words muffled but clear enough to make my heart skip a beat. Before I could stop myself, I revealed what I’ve always wanted to say ever since I met Itaru.

“I trust you, Itaru. Kiss me.”

Itaru slowly lifted his head, silently asking if you were serious. I leaned in closer, pushing my chair towards him as if giving him permission. Itaru was in shock and disbelief, before breaking out into a wide smile as if this was the highlight of his night.

When he leaned in as well, his hands ghosted over the latches of my helmet warily, meeting my eyes again to confirm. I nodded, and right before Itaru took it off, he whispered his last confession.

“I love you.”

Black alien tentacles pushed past the opening in my helmet and wrapped around Itaru’s throat without any warning. The helmet clattered to the floor noisily as tens of intergalactic limbs spread out and searched for their next victim. It had been so long since I last killed that my extraterrestrial tentacles were deathly hungry, and Itaru was next.

Itaru was lifted into the air, his feet dangling as he desperately tried to grab the tentacles off him. I couldn’t help but smile even as I watched the light fade away from his eyes. My parasitic tentacles squeezed tighter and tighter around every square surface of his body. It wouldn’t be long before he exploded all over the entire Navigation room.

“Rule #1: Never take off your helmet, Itaru.”

I dropped his lifeless body onto the floor without a care in the world. Orange’s suit was stained with blood with what was left of him. I put my helmet back on, wiping the evidence away like I’ve done many times before.

I made sure to set off O2 malfunction on my phone before I hopped into the vent, quickly coming out of Shields before running with the rest of the group. When I managed to report Orange’s body, I watched his corpse float millions of light years away in the distance.

Itaru was not the Imposter.

I am, and I’m going to win, no matter who died.

[spencervoid]

Practical Joke War | Spencer Reid

*I do not own the gif nor do I take credit for it!*

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: My first ever post, and it’s a lovely Dr Reid imagine so who wouldn’t enjoy it? I’m not an expert at writing but I’ve had a go at some that I keep to myself so I thought I’d share it with the fascinating world of Tumblr. I don’t have an IQ of 187 or an eidetic memory but what I do have is a massive crush on a fictional character. An incredibly unhealthy one, but hope you enjoy!

I/B: This imagine was inspired by Morgan & Reid’s practical joke war which I absolutely LIVE FOR and just twisted it to fit all your fantasising needs, I don’t own Criminal Minds or the actors in it (I wish haha).

Warnings: swearing (only like one word)

Word Count: 1.1k (reading time; 7-8 minutes average)

As you sighed frustratingly, pulling your latex gloves over your hands, you watched JJ as she looked around the room, trying to piece together how it happened. She examined the victim, the same marks and cuts across the body as the victim before. 

You stepped closer to the bed and followed the blood from the sheets to the floor where the victim was dragged, begging for his life at that point. “Hotch believes he’s sadistic, takes pleasure in killing because he has a reason to be doing it. Or at least thinks he does.” 

You turned to look behind your shoulder as you heard the door creak open, the team’s genius strolling in with a smirk on his face as he pulled his gloves on. “What’s up with you?” He met your eyes as you furrowed your brows, taking in his expression. “Hmm? Nothing.” 

“Probably found a new mistake in one of the Star Trek movies.” 

You grinned, hearing JJ from the other side of the room who was inspecting the closet doors. Reid walked further into the room, rolling his eyes. 

"Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek, especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors."

You and JJ both paused for a minute, awkwardly replying to Spencer’s burst of words. “Right.” You shook your head, asking about the press him and Rossi had just dealt with outside. 

“It was alright.” You couldn’t help but think he was onto to something but rid your mind of the thought as the three of you continued conversing between yourselves about the case.

Continually through the day, your phone kept ringing and buzzing from all the different media outlets in the state. “What the hell?”, you muttered to yourself, declining the billionth call of the day. You stood with Morgan, Rossi, Reid and Hotch, discussing the nature of the unsub.

“And the unsub didn’t develop his sense of empathy because it was cut off.” You muttered a curse word underneath your breath as you took out your phone, another media outlet ringing you. Seriously, how the hell did they even get my number? You pressed the red button, planting the phone back into your trouser pocket. 

Hotch looked up at you, “Does every person with asymbolia have this?” You took a quick deep breath, regaining your calmness as you looked to the other four who were waiting for your response. “Actually most feel empathy just fine which makes me think that the rest of our profile is still accurate, loner, invisible, outcast, boiling rage-” You trailed off with your words as yet another buzzing noise came from your phone. 

“SON OF A BITCH!” You aggressively yanked the phone out of your pocket and accepted the call, bringing it briskly to your ear. “HI, THIS IS SPECIAL AGENT Y/N Y/L/N. I ACTUALLY CAN COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW WITH A VERY SPECIAL MESSAGE THAT YOUR MOTHER IS A T-”

You were cut off by a firm voice as you ended the call and apologised for your outburst, “I don’t know what came over me, where were we?” You looked up at Reid as he was speaking, your eyes narrowing, remembering the events earlier that day when he’d walked in with a smirk on his face. 

You ran a hand down your face, hearing Hotch speak up again. “I’ll have Garcia check medical records, uh what causes asymbolia?” You paused for a moment, studying Hotch’s face then looking at Spencer who met your eyes for a second but looked away with a knowing smile on his face. Spencer Walter Reid, you clever pain in the backside. 

“S-Severe trauma produces legions in the insular cortex usually after a.. a stroke but this unsub’s so young, it’s most likely caused by an external factor.” You looked Spencer up and down, trying to piece together what was happening in your head but in front of you too. 

He rubbed his face in an attempt to hide the small smile planted on his lips but you saw right through his little façade. “Like a bomb going off next to him?” You looked at Rossi as he finished his sentence, and nodded in an agreeing manner. “Yeah, like a bomb going off next to him.” You glared deliberately at Reid as he tried to contain his smile. Morgan chuckled as you shook your head, Hotch walking away, tapping numbers into his cell. 

You gathered the papers on your desk, muttering to no one in particular. “I will crush you.” There was a silent pause as you reached to the far end of the table, grabbing the folder. “What?” 

“What?” You smiled sweetly at Reid, walking away in the same direction as Hotch, a mischievous smile hanging about your lips. 

On the plane ride back, you sat opposite Reid with Rossi next to him and Morgan next to you. Who knew a little free time could make for one spectacular comeback? Hair flip. 

You pretended to be asleep, resting your head on your hand, snoring quietly. Spencer had his headphones on as he looked out the window, occasionally looking over at you, smiling when recalling the day’s events. You shifted as you heard the podcast come to a halt, your voice coming to life but remained ‘asleep’. 

‘We interrupt your regularly scheduled podcast selection with an important announcement. Never wage a practical joke war against an Academy graduate because we have a history of going nuclear. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the dulcet sounds of me screaming in your ear. AHHHHHH.....’

You chuckled softly but kept your eyes closed.

Spencer pulled off his headphones quickly and sighed, looking at you with his eyes narrowed. He shook his head and looked over at Morgan who had an eyebrow raised at the sudden screaming coming from his MP3 player. 

“Alright Y/L/N, bring it on.” 

“Paybacks are a bitch.” Morgan laughed next to you as you just went back to snoring, remaining sound asleep.

[breanime]

Logan Delos with Break Up With Him

*gif not mine*

“You’re drunk, aren’t you, Logan?” You sighed, cradling your phone between your shoulder and chin.

“Nah,” he answered back with a laugh, “I’m not drunk… Okay, I may have a little buzz—BUT, that song came on just now—you know the one—and I thought… what harm could come from one little call?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling despite yourself. When you got a call from your ex-boyfriend at 1 in the morning, you expected something ridiculous, but what you hadn’t expected was the adorable charm. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” You asked.

“I do,” he said, “I know it’s late, but I also knew that you would pick up—and you did. So,” you pictured him leaning against a wall, “what are you wearing?...”

You laughed. “Logan, you know I have a boyfriend,” you said. It was a half-truth; the guy who you were seeing wasn’t exactly your boyfriend, and you didn’t want him to be, but you were spending a lot of time with him, so… Truth be told, he was really just a placement holder for Logan that you’d gotten used to, and now that Logan was calling… No—you said the last time with him would be the last time, and you had to stick to your word. “I’m taken,” you repeated.

“Psh,” you pictured Logan rolling his eyes then, “what you are is taking too long,” he said back. “What you need to do is tell him that it’s over, get over here with me, and let me apologize to you with lots and lots of orgasms.”

You felt a jolt of excitement go through you at his words, but you hushed it. You had to stay logical here. “Apologize for what?” You drawled. “The late hours? The forgotten calls? The unanswered texts?”

“All that and more,” he said, “Come on, sweetheart, you know I’m sorry. Work was getting crazy, and I know I should have done more to communicate with you and—it won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Hm,” you leaned your back against a cabinet, “now where have I heard that before…?”

Logan sighed. “C’mon, Y/N. Stringin’ him along any longer is just a waste of time. You and I both know that you’re not in love with him, so why keep this up any longer?”

“How do you know I’m not in love with him?” You shot back.

“Because you’re in love with me,” he answered, all confidence, “the way you look at me… Baby, you can’t pretend. What we have is real, we just… We fit together.”

You bit your lip. He wasn’t wrong. You and Logan fit like a glove; there had never been another person you felt so connected with… even when he was being a neglectful brat, Logan was still your first choice. “…what do I say to him?”

You could practically feel Logan’s grin through the phone. “Tell him it’s you, it’s not him… Maybe even lie to him and say you’ll still be friends. I’ve seen the guy—weak chin, good posture, I’m sure he’d be real fun to go stamp collecting with or something…”

You laughed. “You’re a dick, Logan.”

“I’m your dick, baby.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, not wanting to give him the pleasure of your laugh for that terrible line. “I can’t believe I’m in love with you,” you said, shaking your head.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Logan admitted, “but you are, so… Go ahead and tell him that it’s over; I’ll pour a glass for you right now.”

Sighing, you nodded. “Yeah, alright… I’ll be there in 30 minutes…”

“Make it 15,” he said, “and I’ll use that toy you like…”

Your thighs clenched, and you bit your lip. “I’ll be there in 15.”

*******************************************************************************************

This one is short cause I’ve done this song three times now, haha. Hope you liked it though. Thanks for reading!

[wickednerdery]

Title: Out of Time: Time to Make a Deal Author: @wickednerdery Fandom: Marvel Pairing/character: Loki x Stark!OC Rating: Mature Summary: “You pick your friends poorly.” Notes: Continuing my strange little foray into cyberpunk with Loki on a futuristic Earth (after his escapes with the Tesseract in Endgame?). This one actually has violence and bit of gore, so head’s up on that one, haha!

Masterlist - Previously

The shurikens burst into metal flakes, flutter to the ground. Loki smiles, victorious, until he catches them moving in the dim light. Like a thousand insects they scurry, then fly at Cyno and him like locusts. Loki feels them slash across skin, slip between lips and up nostrils, until he gags on the taste of metal and blood. Cyno tries to cover his face, scrambling to unroll mask built into shirt, but soon falls to a seizing heap. Loki drops not long after, overwhelmed by the strange weapon.

...So this is why so many wear masks…

Loki wakes in a nicer location than he expects, which is a plus. Though he’s alone, no sign of Cyno, and there’s a constant itch under his skin. He shifts, tests the chains holding him to the bolted chair, and breaks out in sliver-cuts as the metal under his skin breaks through. Fuck. His eyes dart, take in the room. He looks out the window, only to realize it’s a false view; it’s not a window, but a screen. There are no windows.

“You pick your friends poorly.” A man’s voice breaks the silence.

The god smirks. “You’d be amazed how frequently that’s the case.”

“I doubt it,” the other smirks back. “Cyno owes me a lot of money.”

“And this is my problem, how?”

“You’re his new employer, instead you pay me now.”

“I’ve no way of paying him to start, so I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

The man approaches, sets large, gloved, hand over Loki’s nose and mouth. He holds it there, cutting off Loki’s air, but that’s only the side effect. Loki can feel the metal bits pulling together inside him. Magnetizing and reforming towards the back of his throat until he gags. He gags harder as the glove over his face suddenly dives into his mouth. Loki vomits as the man pulls the first, partially intact, shuriken from out of him. He vomits again, this time with blood, as more pieces come up. In total, nearly two shurikens come up.

“There’s a shipment coming in from Nagoya. You and Cyno will bring it to me here and the debt will be forgiven.”

Loki spits out another bloodied metal point (three shurikens), then looks up. “Might I know what the shipment contains?”

“No. Look for the IronMan mask on the crate.”

“Of course.” Because who else? 

The man smiles suddenly. “You heal quickly, like me.”

“And who are you?”

“My name is Akihiro. You are?”

“Loki.” He drops the Asgard bit, no one seems to believe him anyhow.

“Perhaps, in other circumstances, we would work together willingly.”

“One never knows.”

The water tingles along Ana’s new flesh as she swims laps, losing herself in the repetition. She runs through ideas, ways to contact Loki once he’s found again. There’s a rush when Tony buzzes her implant with a notification, but as she surfaces she hears him announce a call. Ana pulls herself from the pool, presses wrist to accept. The hologram appears over the pool, she doesn’t bother hide her body or her displeasure at the face. “Orly.”

“I’ve...” He takes in the view, fit female body in burgundy bikini. Much better than the usual business suits or formal gowns he saw her in. “...Caught you at a bad time.”

She sighs. “What do you want?” Besides Stark International, of course, he always wanted that.

For all her attitude, he only sees her as unprotected, vulnerable, as she drips by her pool. “I was merely calling to see how you were. I heard about the assassination attempt, of course.” His eyes drop to where he imagines her skin patch, but she only seems to arch to show it off.

“Yeah, well, you know what they say.” She shrugs, unwilling to shrink from his gaze. “If you’re not making enemies, you’re not getting ahead.”

“Yes, yes, but to try and kill you. It’s terrible. You should  be more careful.”

She snickers. “Thanks for the advice.”

“You know, if we were to work together, it would be safer for both of us. Imagine, Stark International and Oscorp-Alchemax, working together. Building a better future, together.” Ana groans, Orly presses. “With your technological abilities, your nano tech, and my skills in chemical and genetic manipulation we could have an empire.”

“I already have an empire, I don’t need you. Thanks for the well wishes though.” She disconnects the call, lays back with legs dangling in the water. “Arrogant prick.”

“Fucking bitch, hope the next one kills you.” Orly turns to examine CCTV of floating docks. “Cyro? What’s your position?”

“You mean, am I at the docks?”

Orly sighs. “Yes. That is what I mean.”

“You have the cameras, you tell me.”

The next sigh edges toward growl. “Never mind, just tell me when it’s done.”

“Will do.” The moment his boss disconnects, Cyro sighs. “Fucking 404 Corp Wolf.”

“You do realize, at best, Akihiro intends to kill us once he has what he wants,” Loki says.

“Yeah. I do.” Cyno wheezes through bandaged nose. He’d let Loki heal him, took a strip to kill the pain, but had yet to clean up the remnants of the break itself.

“We could just kill him. Perhaps the shipment is valuable, we could spilt the profits.” Loki smiles. “Better yet, you could take the whole thing, consider my half payment for services to-be-rendered.”

“Akihiro doesn’t work that way, he’s a mutant. You could cut his head off, he’d just grow it back.”

Loki opens his mouth to counter before the words sink in. “You don’t see a way out.” It’s not a question, just a sad realization.

“Nope.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to do this then.” 

“Yup.”

Loki says nothing, but refuses to give up so easily. There isn’t a problem in the universe that one can’t find their way around if they’re clever and persistent enough. And besides, he’s more interesting things to do than die tonight.

Gah, another one finished, yay!! LOTS of new characters, I know, but you’ll get to know them over time, don’t worry. (Though Akihiro is, in fact, a Marvel comics character, he just usually goes by another name, lol!) While I’m still figuring out the plot as I go, I’ve got ideas, I’m not just floating in a sea of randomness anymore...I think...and hope, lol!!

Still/Always playing with this one, feel free to share ideas/thoughts/suggestions!! 😉

Tagging: @lady-crowned-with-stars​​​​​, @beccaliciooouuusss​​​​​, gravitational-anomaly, @fuckthatfeeling​​​​, @v-2bucky​​​​, @ultrarebelheart​​​​, @tarithenurse​​​​ @latent-thoughts​​​​ @chibiyanai​​​​ @lukeevansandjdmobession​​​​ @sweetfictionalworld​​​​ @ladyfluff​​​​ @theangelsfightwithdevils​​​​ @holykryptonitekitten​​​​ @kpopgirlbtssvt​​​​ @michellearel1​​​​​ …If you wanna be added, just lemme know!!

Gifs made off ones I found on Google, then combined myself.

[mysticm3ss]

RFA+Saeran x MC who does muay thai

not requested, but i was at a muay thai class today and just started thinking abt this so i figured i’d write it. this is pure self-indulgence, sorry haha. if you haven’t heard of it before, muay thai is thai kickboxing ^^ (also i’m not claiming to be an expert by any means i’ve only been doing it for like 6 weeks i just rly like it)

Yoosung:

Lowkey terrified when he finds out.

That said, the experience in which he discovers your hobby isn’t exactly “ideal.”

It was late as the two of you walked home from one of your dates; the street lamps were dull, the traffic nothing but a slow trickle as you walked hand in hand down the footpath, sharing whispers and hushed giggles in the quiet of the night.

Safe by Yoosung’s side and all too occupied as the apple of his eye, you don’t even notice the person who had been following you the past block and a half.

When they make their presence known by grabbing your purse, your fight instincts take over and you slip easily into your muay thai stance, throwing quick, consecutive punches without thinking and easily blocking attempted counterattacks.

You follow it up with a knee to the liver and a brutal kick to their inner thigh. When you throw an uppercut elbow into their chin, they collapse into an unconscious heap before you.

Still shaking with adrenaline (and, to an extent, surprise at your own skill), you pry your purse from their grip and step away, only to find Yoosung gaping at you.

“...Yoosung?”

He blinks, shaking his head to snap himself from his stupor as he manages to stammer a response.

“M-MC... what the hell was that?! Oh my god, are you okay?!”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hella turned on tbh

You chuckle sheepishly. “Heh. Yeah, I’m fine... you know how I go to the gym? It’s... technically a muay thai gym.”

Yoosung manages to nod, and stares in disbelief as you revert back to your usual self, pecking his cheek before taking his hand and continuing to walk down the pathway.

He can’t help but watch you in awe.

Wow, his partner is awesome.

Zen:

When Zen notices the bruises marring your legs and torso, he’s immediately concerned.

“Jagi... what happened? Are you okay? How did you get all these bruises? Is someone hurting you?!”

You can see the anger bubbling beneath the surface, and you run your hand down his arm soothingly before he can get too riled up.

“No, no, it’s fine, Zen... they’re just from muay thai.”

Zen’s brow furrows into the most adorable pout of confusion as he tilts his head to the side.

“...from what?”

You explain the sport to him, and his eyes light up with interest.

“Oh, wow! Maybe I could... go with you, sometime?” he suggests idly, and you nod eagerly.

The next week, you drag him to a beginner’s class.

The moment you walk into the gym, Zen’s chest tightens with jealously. The gym is full of guys. Shirtless guys. Fit shirtless guys.

When you greet them all as friends, even hugging a few who hadn’t been in for a while, Zen can’t help but pull you a little closer to his side.

“...MC, y-you come here almost every day?” he asks, and you giggle, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and easily spotting the hint of insecurity in his eyes, and the protectiveness that shadowed it.

“Yes, and I come home to you,” you remind him, and he immediately relaxes, nodding and casting aside his worries as he instead focusses on enjoying the sport you devote so much time to.

You start off by teaching him how to wrap his hands and volunteering to hold pads for him first, once he’s learned some basic movements.

He’s already fit, so it doesn’t take him too long to get down the basic technique...

...but his punches are weak, his kicks weaker, and you know right away that he’s going easy on you.

“Zen. Babe. You can kick harder,” you prompt, and he chuckles.

“What? I know... I just...”

You grin, and the timer buzzes, signalling the end of the round.

When the instructor begins to describe the movements for the next round, he drags you to the front of the room to demonstrate, considering your experience in comparison to the other beginners. When he gets you to hold pads for him, Zen flinches as he watches the instructor knee the belly pad strapped around your waist, followed by the quick, solid roundhouse kick you easily catch with the pads. 

The thwack of flesh on leather has Zen half ready to leap to your defence, but he can only stare in awe as you easily absorb the impact.

You swap partners for the next round, and Zen couldn’t possibly describe his anxiety as he watches you partner up with someone almost twice your size.

His anxiety fades into admiration as he watches you land punch after punch, nailing kicks and knees into your partner’s waiting pads like nobody’s business.

he almost gets punched in the head (twice) while he’s not paying attention let’s be real

By the end of the class, Zen has already made friends with your buddies--if they’re important to you, they’re important to him, as well, and he’d be damned if he didn’t want to make a good first impression on them.

When the two of you head home that evening, Zen relents that maybe the sport isn’t for him (he can’t have bruises on his beautiful skin after all), but is always eager to support your interests.

Jaehee:

This judo enthusiast is thrilled when she hears that you enjoy a combat sport, as well.

Peppers you with questions about the differences between the two sports, and would honestly love to give sparring with you a go in order to compare techniques...

...which is exactly what the two of you end up doing.

You’re not trying to hurt each other, of course--you set boundaries and never go at each other with full power.

But when the two of you finish up, you’re both patterned with mottling bruises and aching limbs.

After a hot shower, the two of you cuddle up on the bed, all tangled limbs and gentle nuzzling as you press soft kisses to one another’s wounded skin.

You run your hands along Jaehee’s back and gently massage her sore muscles, feeling the tension seep from her body as she relaxes into the sheets, humming contentedly at your touch.

When you’re done, she returns the favour, ending it with a soft kiss to the lips that breaks as you both can’t help but smile against one another’s mouths.

“That was fun, MC...” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “But... maybe we should leave sparring to our respective classes. I don’t like the idea of hurting you.”

You smile, wincing as you shuffle to glance over at her, body still throbbing dully in pain.

She mimics the action, ribs obviously sore and arms tired as they wrap around your waist, warm and soft.

“Mmm... good idea,” you reply, pressing your face into her neck and placing a soft kiss to her jaw. “I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

Jumin:

When Jumin finds out about your hobby, he’s a mix between intrigued and impressed.

“MC, as much as I love that you’re capable of defending yourself, you do realise we have a whole security team dedicated to your safety...?”

You smile goodnaturedly and explain to him that it’s not just about the self-defence, though that is an added bonus; it’s about the stress relief and satisfaction of being able to nail a certain move or combo, and the thrill that comes with sparring.

When he sees just how much you enjoy it, he considers hiring a world titleholder to act as your personal trainer.

And as much as the idea of meeting such a skilled individual excites you, you explain that it’s really not necessary.

You love the comradeship you have at your gym, and your primary goal isn’t to fight professionally, anyways. You’re happy where you are.

Definitely buys you top-notch equipment--we’re talking brand new gloves and shin pads, so fancy that you’re a little scared to imagine the heavy price tag they bore.

Loves to watch you practise shadowboxing around the house, and peppers you with questions about your technique.

Even asks you to show him a few moves.

let’s just say that muay thai is not jumin’s forte

Regardless, you appreciate his interest in your passion, and definitely enjoy the hot baths he draws to soothe your sore muscles, and the loving attention he pays you afterwards.

Seven:

“MC, that’s amazing~! Who would’ve thought my innocent sweetie was so tough and talented!”

Honestly, the idea of you engaging in the sport is really exciting to him.

and turns him on to no end

Eager to drive you to, and pick you up from, all of the classes you go to throughout the week.

Your biggest supporter if you ever choose to fight, and working out with you is one of the few things that can drag him away from the constraints of his work.

He doesn’t mention it, but the fact that you’re somewhat competent in combat is also really reassuring to him.

Knowing that you can look after yourself if the situation arose? Super comforting to him, especially regarding his line of work.

Insists on sparring with you.

“Saeyoung, do you even know anything about muay thai, let alone how to spar in it?”

“Whaaaaat? Of course~!”

(He doesn’t)

(He doesn’t even block any of your punches)

(C’mon man you’re a secret agent you know how to block a goddamn punch)

“Ohh, MC, you’re just too strong for me~ God Seven is forced to surrender!”

Brags about you to the RFA chat every other day.

“Hey, did you know MC can totally beat me up~?”

“...Seven, confine your kinks to the bedroom please”--the entire RFA

Regardless, he’s super proud of you and will always, always support your interests, especially one he finds so cool!

Saeran:

It makes him uneasy.

The idea of a bunch of people throwing punches at you, with only a foam pad between you and their fist or elbow?

Nope. Not a fan.

And when you come home with bruises?!?!

“I thought you said they weren’t really hurting you?!”

“Sae, I literally did this to myself. The boxing bags aren’t soft on my shins, y’know.”

Begrudgingly admits he’s glad you know how to defend yourself, though.

Plus he sees how happy you are when you come home, and nothing can beat the flutter in his chest when he sees the light in your eyes and the grin on your face, even when you’re sweaty and sore.

Eventually, it’s something that he gets used to, and he finds himself kissing the bruises marring your skin and rubbing tiger palm into your sore muscles.

So long as you’re happy, so is he.

hope you enjoyed! i don’t expect many people to read this one but if you’ve made it this far, why not reblog or comment and let me know what you think? xx

[spideyy-girl]

Bulletproof ~ Steve Harrington

Summary: Y/N, a super individual like Eleven, and Steve are captured and interrogated by the Russian soldiers who are working under Starcourt mall and have to find a way to escape before they get killed by the commies…

Fandom: Stranger Things (3)

Warnings: swearing, torture, getting shot, and reader and steve being high as fuck lmao

Word Count: 3223 (9 pages)

A/N: so this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but if you follow me you might know that I’ve been having problems with the tag system, and my works never show up on the search engine, so sorry it’s so late! My school starts next Wednesday so updates might be a little slower (or maybe even a little faster) but I still have a Richie headcanon on the way!

~~~

Y/N had no idea how on earth she got herself in this situation.

When her younger friend Dustin told her and Steve Harrington, a close friend of theirs and Y/N’s sort of giant crush, about a secret spy code he had picked up from his homemade radio tower, she was intrigued, to say the least. And you know what they say: curiosity killed the cat. And it sure as hell seemed like she was gonna die, but she didn’t think her life would end tied up to said ice-cream slinger from before while being interrogated by a bunch of evil Communists in a secret Russian lair under the mall where he worked and she visited regularly.

It had been hours, and Y/N continued to scream for help, trying to get anyone’s attention so she and Steve could escape the insane hellhole they got themselves stuck in. Steve grumbled, the loud voice of the girl tied up behind him making his head pound harder and he felt like his ears were about to bleed from all of the noise she was making.

“Hey, could you please stop yelling?” Steve almost whispered, but Y/N still heard it clear as day in the small silent room. She tried to turn around to face him but soon remembered that she was strapped to a chair, so she leaned her head on his shoulder instead.

“Steve? Oh my god, hey. Are-are you okay?” Y/n said, feeling a tsunami of relief hit her. For a while, she truly thought he had gone and died on her. Steve chuckled at her and leaned his head on hers to give her a sense of comfort.

“My ears are ringing and I can’t really breathe, I feel like my eyeballs are about to pop out of my skull, but other than that I’m doing pretty good,” Steve mumbles to her. She couldn’t help but giggle, Steve always knew how to make even the worst situations just a bit more bearable with his humour.

“Well, you don’t look it, my friend,” she pokes back at him. He nudges her with his head, his long hair tickling her cheek in the process.

“Geez, that one hurt, L/N,” he says back, trying to keep the girl’s mind off of the current dilemma they’re in for just a bit. He knew that she gets stressed and scared easily, due to her past trauma at the lab. It made him feel good that he could take that away from her. He tried to rip off the tape that was holding his wrists together, but it wouldn’t seem to budge. “Hey, think your mind tricks could help get us out of these chairs?”

Y/N sighed and raised her head, shaking it. “Can’t move things with my mind like El, remember?” She said, and Steve let out a small “oh” and nodded in understanding. Y/N’s powers we’re slightly different than Eleven’s, where El’s powers consisted more of telekinesis- or moving things with her mind, Y/N’s was more focused on telepathy, or mind manipulation. “So unless I can get into their heads and convince them to let us go, there’s not much I can do…” She trails off, wondering if even that would work considering what the officer said earlier.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Steve reassured, leaning his head back onto her shoulder. “Besides, I think that could work. Do you think you could, like, get in there?” Y/N laughed slightly, but still felt nervous.

“I-I don’t know if I want to,” she tried to joke, letting out another dry laugh that sounded more uncomfortable. “But, I’m not sure. They already saw the number. They, um, t-they know who I am, Steve,” Y/N’s voice quivered, but she tried to keep herself calm, not wanting to show Steve how scared she really was.

Steve felt his body stiffen, not wanting to think about what those Russian soldiers might do to her, what they might use her for if they know about her abilities. He felt the palms of his hands start to dampen, and he tried just a little harder to pull himself from the belts that kept his wrists held to the arms of the chair he sat in. He let out an unsteady breath, not sure if his next words would be true, but he continued anyway. “Nothing will happen to you, okay? I promise; I swear on my life. We’re both gonna get out of here, alive, and we’re gonna be okay. I promise they won’t hurt you, they’d have to kill me first before they even touch you.” He said boldly, picking his words carefully, but also just spewing any positive things that came to mind. Y/N smiled at Steve, thankful that he was showing how much he cared for her, but his last sentence did admittingly make her uneasy.

“Thanks, Stevey,” she whispered back, and before they could continue to try and hatch up an escape plan, there was a loud buzzing sound that rang through the room before the Russian soldiers and the alleged ‘doctor’ strolled through the heavy metal door. The comrade made eye contact with Y/N, since she was the one facing the door, and gave her a disgusting smirk that made her squirm in her seat. As he moved around her to see Steve, he brushed his hand over her shoulder, making her retract from the contact immediately.

“I see your little boyfriend has finally decided to wake from his beauty sleep and join us,” he said as he faced Steve, the teenage boy giving him a dirty look in return. The officer chuckled, leaning closer to whisper in his ear. “Good thing you did, little boy, or I might’ve taken your girl from you and used her myself.” Steve felt every muscle in his body tense up at just those words.

“Fuck off,” he spat at the officer. “If you touch a single fucking hair on her body, I swear to god I will-” Steve cut himself off as he saw the drill powered by some kind of blue serum the doctor held, his eyes widened. He looked between the machine and the comrade, who’s smirk grew.

“Try telling the truth this time, yes?” He suggested, his hand reaching up to play with Steve’s hair, twirling it around a gloved finger. “It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful, for the both of you.” The doctor comes closer to Steve as the machine starts whirring.

“Hey, hey! What do you think you’re doing? AH!” Steve yells as the drill is injected into his neck. Y/N is kicking around in her chair, screaming at the doctor to stop and leave him alone. The Russian officer came up to her and stared at her, a creepy smile on his face as he caressed her cheek, Y/N leaning away from the unwanted touch.

“Don’t worry, little slut,” he said to her, smiling wickedly. “You’re next.” And with that, he slapped her harshly, the glove making a sharp noise against her cheek which echoed around the room as he left, the door locking behind him. She heard Steve’s screaming stop and soon the injection was put into her own neck.

~~~

Y/N’s head rested against Steve’s, trying her hardest not to let her sleep deprivation get the best of her, as it didn’t seem like the best moment to take a quick nap. She put her head back on Steve’s shoulder and nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck, to which he giggled.

“That-that tickles a little,” Steve giggled. Y/N let out a smile and laughed along, doing it a little more before stopping again and closing her eyes. A little rest wouldn’t hurt, right? Luckily, the drugs hadn’t hit her as hard as they did with Steve since she was used to similar types of torture back when she was trained in the lab. Steve claimed he didn’t feel anything either, but she could tell something was definitely wrong with him, and even she herself felt off.

“I mean, I feel fine!” Steve exclaimed, accidentally bonking his head against the back of Y/N’s. “Oop, sorry. But I think these morons messed up the drug!” Y/N couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips.

“Haha, yeah, stupid morons can’t even drug us!” She said happily, still laughing as her head lolled on top of Steve’s shoulder. Steve laughed along with her, continuing to mock the Commies.

“Hey morons! Morons! Woah-oh!” He yelled as he continued to laugh, Y/N trying to hold back her own giggles but of course, didn’t succeed.

“There is definitely something wrong with us,” she said with another small giggle and Steve nodded.

“Yup, something’s wrong,” he agreed. Then the door buzzed, indicating that the Russian officer was once again entering the room, accompanied by his doctor friend, who was pulling out very sharp and not very doctor-like tools from his lab coat. Y/N stared at him wide-eyed, watching his movements as the officer went back to face Steve, who was biting his lip to try and keep himself from laughing.

“Let’s try this again, yes?” his voice comes out through his thick accent, and Y/N felt Steve nod slightly. The comrade came closer and looked at the boy dead in the eye. “Who do you work for?” he snarled out and Y/N felt herself holding her breath to try and keep herself from losing it, whether that meant a laughing fit or a mental breakdown, she didn’t quite know yet.

“Scoops. Scoops Ahoy,” Steve replied as he chuckled. Y/N found his comment wildly amusing and started wheezing as she threw her head back and hit Steve’s, but he was also too busy laughing to realize. The Russian looks at the teenage girl who was still giggling and red in the face, thinking of what he might have to do to her.

“How did you find us?” He asked, his eyes not averting from the girl who’s back was facing towards him, but the question was still directed at Steve. The boy tried to keep a straight face as he answered, but still to no avail.

“Oh, totally by accident,” Steve said and Y/N started cackling, kicking her feet as her body fell forward and tears started to form in her eyes. The comrade looks back at the doctor and speaks something in Russian that they couldn’t understand. Then the doctor pulled out a pair of plyers and walked towards the pair, the other one nodding his head towards Steve. “What is that shiny little toy you got there?” Steve laughed as the doctor crouched in front of him and went to grab one of Steve’s fingernails with the tool, to which Steve’s smile finally dropped and he started to scream in protest.

“There was a code! We heard a code!” Y/N said when she heard Steve starting to go crazy. The doctor pulled the plyers away and the comrade made his way to stand in front of Y/N now, glaring at her. When he questioned what code she began to giggle again, and honestly that sound alone made Steve forget about his fingernail almost being pulled off. “You know, 'the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west, blah blah blah. You broadcast that dumb shit all over town, and we picked it up on our little toy radio, and we cracked it in a day! A fucking day!” She laughed again as she looked up at the officer, who was snarling down at her.

“Who is we? Who else knows we are here?” He demanded, and Steve turned his head a little to talk, much to Y/N trying to tell him to stop.

“Well, uh, Dustin knows we’re here. Dustin Henderson?” Steve said as he started laughing again and Y/N leaned on his shoulder, still giggling as well as he continued. “Yeah, curly hair, small, kind of like a fro. He’s got great hair.” Steve tried looking back at Y/N and she made sounds of agreement with his descriptions.

“Dustin Henderson? Where is he?” He asked Steve, and Steve smirked at him.

“Oh they’re long gone, you big asshole!” He giggled. “And he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper is probably calling the US cavalry. They’re gonna come in here commando-style, guns-a-blazing, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You'r4e gonna be two pieces of toast.” And Steve lost it after finishing his statement, leaning forward as he wheezed, Y/N leaning back with him as she did the same. And before the comrade could say anything else, an alarm blasts through the air, just on time.

The Russian comrade jolted out of the room to see what the hell had happened while the doctor stayed to keep a watch on the drugged pair of teenagers. Y/N saw this as a perfect opportunity to try and escape. Steve nudged her, trying to silently tell her to use whatever powers she can to get them out of their current situation.

“Um, excuse me, kind sir?” Y/N caught his attention and giggled. The doctor looked at her confused, she could tell he obviously didn’t understand what she was saying but continued. “You wouldn’t mind helping a poor girl like me out, would you?” She flashed him a charming smile and as soon as she locked their gaze her face went straight and she tried to push whatever was in her system aside to concentrate. The doctor fell into a state of oblivion and Y/N giggled a bit, happy that it was working. “It would be awfully nice of you to let us go.” She said, and with that, he walked slowly towards them and unbuckled the belts.

Y/N was so surprised it actually worked so well that she forgot that she was manipulating someone and he fell out. But before he could make a move to get them back, Steve slipped out of his restraints and hit him with the chair, knocking him unconscious. Y/N giggled and clapped as Steve helped her get out of her own chair. “Gotta say, Harrington, that was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen,” she giggled and so did he. He grabbed her face and squished her cheeks.

“No, YOU’RE the hottest thing I’ve ever seen!” he replied quite loudly and they both laughed. Steve grabbed Y/N’s hand and dragged her towards the door. “Let’s get out of here finally!” He said and the girl squealed in excitement as they began to aimlessly run down the hallway. And as you could’ve probably guessed, that was not the best plan.

As they ran down one of the endlessly long hallway, looking for the storage room elevator, they heard a strong voice come down the other side of the hallway in what was presumably Russian, and the sound of a gun cocking. Y/N and Steve looked back and their eyes blew wide as they saw the giant riffle pointed towards them and two more officers joined his side and did the same thing.

“Oh shit! OH, SHIT!” Steve said as he tugged her hand and tried to get Y/N to run along with her. “Y/N, come on! We seriously got to go! Hey, what are you doing?!” They heard the ringing sound of gunshots fly through the air and it was as if everything was going in slow motion. Steve took Y/N’s hand and dragged her into a hallway going a different direction but it was too late, and Y/N had wedged herself between the bullets and Steve.

Steve caught her as she fell, holding her ribs where the bullets had made contact. He felt almost completely sober as he saw the girl squeezing her eyes shut in pain, groaning. Her breathing was heavy and Steve pulled her into a clear room and locked all the doors, rushing over to her and putting her head on his lap, trying to keep himself from crying.

“Oh god, baby, I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he pet her hair. She shook her head, trying to get herself to make words but was still in shock. “No no no no, this wasn’t supposed to happen, oh god, oh shit, I’m sorry I’m so so sorry.” At this point he couldn’t help the water escaping his eyes.

“Steve,” she said as she grabbed him hand. He began to sob as he looked at her and squeezed her hand, using his other hand to push hair away from her face. “Steve, hey, it’s okay.”

“No no it’s not okay! What were you thinking?” He screamed at her, his tears making his vision blurry. “You-you just got shot! You were shot! Please, you can’t die on me, not here.” he continued to ramble so much that he was completely distracted to the lack of blood on the floor.

“Steve, listen to me,” she said a bit more sternly. But Steve just shook his head.

“No, Y/N, you have to listen, okay? You’re gonna be fine. I promised myself that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as I was alive, so I’m gonna make sure we get out. Just please don’t die, Y/N stay with me-”

“Steve!” She shouted as she reached up and grabbed his face. He opened his eyes and wiped his tears to meet her gaze. She looked at him with her eyebrows furrowed and laughed at him, pushing his hair from his face. He then slowly pushed his gaze to her abdomen, which seemed to be fine, as if nothing happened. She saw his gaze shift and lifted her shirt to show where the bullets had hit her had only left a couple of bruises.

Steve gasped as he looked between the purple marks to her beautiful Y/E/C eyes, and smiled, still feeling shocked. “Holy fuck. You-you’re, like, you’re fucking bulletproof! Holy shit!” He smiled at her and she smiled back, nodding excitedly. He felt his laugh die down as he continued to stare at her, a small smile still prominent on his face. “I love you, you know that?”

Y/N was taken aback by his words but smiled back sweetly once she processed the situation and kissed his cheek, pressing her forehead against his. “I sorta love you too,” she whispered. The pair pulled back to look at each other again and leaned forward, their lips brushing against one another. But before they could connect, yelling and gunshots were heard from just outside and they shared looks.

“Maybe we should save this for later and get out of here first,” Steve suggested and Y/N nodded, taking a hand he offered to her as they both got up.

“Yup, good plan,” she agreed and they unlocked the door and prepped themselves to start running. But before they went out, Y/N grabbed Steve’s face and quickly pecked him on the lips. “Just for good luck.” Steve swore he never smiled wider as she winked at him and opened the door for them to escape.

~~~

TAGS:

Permanent: @phonegalhelp​ @caswinchester2000​

Steve Harrington: @irreplaceable-ecstasy @kiara-uwu  @layxbubbly​ @pvachyy

[rogermeddowsx]

office parties suck - part 2

word count : 1.9k 

contains : slightly bad language - barely - and mentions of smoking / drinking 

author’s note : heyyy, i’m back haha. this part was a lotttt shorter than the last one sorry about that. i’ve been getting back into the swing of working and trying to balance writing this and doing work is proving to be quite a stress haha!! i have loooooads of ideas though for this fic :)) hope you like this part Xx

“Please tell me you at least kissed.” Miles quizzed you pleadingly.

It was early. The sun hadn’t yet risen, making the outside world dark and dreary. You’d woken up almost an hour ago, had a shower and were now eating your breakfast, leaving a sleeping Ben in your bed. Miles was digging for details, which he did every time you had a man stay over.

“We didn’t even exchange a hug before bed, Milesy.” You gripped your steaming mug of coffee in one hand and held a piece of toast in the other. You squealed as a mixture of hot honey and butter ran down the side of your hand. Miles laughed loudly as you ran your tongue along your wrist, spilling your coffee at the same time.

Groaning loudly, you placed your breakfast down and stood up.

“Great, now I have to change my top.”

“Make sure you wake up sleeping beauty while you’re up there.” Miles said with a wink as you made your way up the stairs. You stuck your tongue out at him jokingly.

Your bedroom door creaked open, a slither of light from the hall gradually getting bigger as the door opened wider. The blonde stranger lay sleeping in your bed, his hair fluttering with each breath he exhaled. You pulled off the coffee stained shirt and tugged on a clean one. Ben snorted in his sleep, then turned in your bed. He was still wearing his jeans and his shirt from last night was lying on the floor.

You hadn't noticed that had come off.

Although now you had noticed, you couldn't stop looking.

Oh, stop drooling.

You knelt beside the bed and placed your hand on his arm gently, blushing as your warm skin met his, and shook him.

"Ben, uh, I need to leave for work. Wanna walk with me?"

As his eyes opened groggily, he groaned, “What time is it?”

Reaching over you turned on your bedside lamp, instantly regretting not giving Ben any warning as he squinted due to the harsh light.

You giggled, “Sorry.”

He rubbed his eyes sleepily.

Jesus, he’s cute.

“It’s 7.30 by the way. I have to leave at 8.”

“Thanks.” He said. He slid out of your floral-patterned duvet, muscles flexing as he did so. You cleared your throat and stood.

“There’s a new towel in the bathroom for a shower, it’s the room next to this one.”

He smiled and thanked you, then walked out of your room. You wiped the imaginary bead of sweat from your forehead. You heard the bathroom door click shut, then the sound of the shower being turned on. Your head turned at a knock at your bedroom door.

“You’re telling me that you slept next to that,” Miles appeared at your bedroom door and gestured towards the bathroom. “And you kept completely to yourself?”

He scoffed jokingly, “Yeah, right.”

You laughed as he tried to dodge the pillow thrown in his direction.

“Screw you Miles, I have a speck of self-control.”

Miles looked at you with one eyebrow raised quizzically, then roared with laughter. The sound of him snorting broke the self-control you'd been so keen to defend, and you crumpled in a fit of giggles.

***

“If it weren’t for the fact that you told me he was your roommate, I’d be confident in saying that Miles was your boyfriend.”

You looked up at Ben with your eyebrows furrowed. You cocked your head at him in question.

“I heard you two this morning.”

You blushed furiously. Or was it the cold?

He heard you talking about your self-control (or lack of) around him??

“Well, laughing.” He said.

You exhaled. You didn’t even know you were holding in a breath. You stuffed your hands into your coat pockets. It was still snowing, unusual for London, and it made your road look so magical. Winter was your favourite season. Christmas, snow, watching movies with Miles and Grace, using your fireplace as much as you can because there was no excuse to use it in the warmer months. You loved it.

One thing you didn’t like though, was that you were always, always ill. Your immune system was terrible, and you could never catch a break. In the summer it was your hayfever and in the winter, it was colds and fevers.

“So what do you do now? In your office?” Ben asked.

You scuffed your feet along the stone pavement covered in a thin coat of snow. As you both reached the main road, the snow became grey and slushy. Ahead of you was the underground train station.

“Just read through contracts and stuff. S’not very interesting.”

He laughed. And what a godly sound it was. It made you smile despite the topic of conversation, which usually made you close off.

“Sounds absolutely riveting. Give me your number and you can call me when you’ve finished to tell me all about those contracts and stuff.”

“Ben Hardy, that was a really crap way of trying to get my number. Although talking about contracts does sound tempting.”

This only made him laugh more. He took out his phone then extended it out to you. On the screen was a blank contact profile, which you filled in with your number and name.

“Wait, it needs a contact photo,” he said when you handed it back to him. “How will I remember what you look like?”

You shoved his arm playfully.

“Hand it back then.” You took the phone, readjusted your black beanie and stuffed one glove in your pocket. Instantly, the tips of your fingers went red. You thread your arm around Ben’s, pulled him in closer to you, then held the phone in front of you.

“Smile.” You said with a cheeky grin.

“I’ll take that. Thanks.” Ben said as he took the phone from you.

“I’m gonna take a taxi home, you cool getting the train?”

You nodded as you tugged your glove back on. You leant up to him and pulled him into a hug. His hand found the middle of your back as your arms wrapped around his neck. Your grip loosened and you pulled back slightly to kiss him on the cheek. You lingered slightly, taking in the smell of Miles’ aftershave which Ben had clearly found in the bathroom, then you drew back completely.

“See ya at the wedding.” You said.

“Later.”

***

The sound of your phone dinging brought you out of your trance. Your eyes hazed over the contract in front of you.

Unknown Number : Photo

You thanked the unknown messenger for the distraction as you opened the text. The photo was of you and Ben. Your eyes were crinkled, the corners of your mouth upturned; a true smile. Behind you, the snow was falling gently, and people flooded into the station. But it wasn’t the snow you were focused on, or the way you smiled directly into the camera. It was Ben. The way he looked down at you, his dimples deeply engraved and his smile flashing a perfectly aligned set of teeth. The hair escaping your beanie, tickled his nose, making it scrunch up slightly. His eyes were bright.

You saved his contact and texted him back.

You: Cute picture. :p

Ben: That’s all you ;)

You blushed furiously, and quickly hid your cheeks with your hands to stop your colleagues from questioning anything. Your phone turned off with a click and you placed it back into your pocket. It buzzed again.

Milesy ❤️ ️: What are u doing later?? x

You: Got that dumb party :/ Xx

Milesy ❤️ ️: Will u be back late? x

You: Depends how quickly I can get away without my boss noticing Xx

Milesy ❤️ ️: Text when u leave and ill meet u. dont want u walking back alone. x

You turned your phone over so that it was face down and looked back to the contract in front of you. Sighing loudly, you continued to type boring terms and conditions, dreading that evening. For some reason though, not everything felt bad. You weren't sure why but you were determined to find out.

***

It was heaving. Sweaty bodies brushed past one another as you stood in the corner of the Groucho, London. One of the most exclusive clubs in town and here you were, wishing you were at home and curled up in bed. You pushed your way through the sea of people towards the door, ignoring the way the music moved people like puppets on strings.

You loved parties, you drank and danced - never smoked - and always had a good time. But that was with friends. Sure, you talked to your colleagues but the friendships never extended outside of work.

As you reached the door, you pulled your cardigan closer to your body. Cold air punched you in the face as you opened the door. The area was small, a few garden chairs and plants littered around. Above a green and white striped sofa was a pink neon sign; “Fucking beautiful,” it read. There was one man sitting at a table facing away from you. His collar was pulled up and a cigarette sat loosely between his fingers. He didn’t flinch as the door slammed behind you. You sat in the corner and pulled out your phone.

You : i’m @ that party and holy lord i’m bored

The reply was almost instant.

Ben : hey, texting me just because you’re bored? should i be offended 🤔 haha x

Your nails clicked upon your screen as your typed your reply and laughed.

You : not quite haha.

You : just wanted to talk i guess 🤷

Ben : well that’s ok :) x

Ben : are you being antisocial and texting me in the middle of the party?? x

You : No, I came outside to a smoking area *vomits*

You : It’s pretty though.

You held up your phone camera and snapped a picture. Only half your face was in it, illuminated by the neon pink glow coming from behind you. Your eye wrinkled as you smiled. You sent the picture with the caption; “Actually I’d say it’s fucking beautiful.”

You patted yourself on the back, proud of the joke. The man in front of you put out his cigarette. He turned around to look at you.

“Ben?��

It had barely been 12 hours and you found that you’d missed the chuckle that came from his lips.

“Heyyy.” He walked over to your bench and sat next to you. As you leaned into his arms he was holding out, you caught a whiff of his cologne. You inhaled.

God, he smells nice.

You returned the hug and pulled away.

“What are you doing here?” You asked him.

“Came here for a meeting. I know, I know, it seems like a weird place for a meeting” He said in response to the questioning look on your face.

“No, I used to come here for meetings when I was signed to a label. What do you do?” You asked.

He held out his glass to you. You smiled gratefully and took a sip.

“I’m an actor. My manager was in town this evening and thought it would be good to catch up.”

You gasped at him, almost choking on the drink.

An actor?????

“What would I have seen you in?” You asked, giving his glass back to him.

“Eastenders probably. Apart from that I’ve only really played small parts.”

“I haven’t really watched Eastenders. It’s never really been my thing.” You admitted. “Cool that you’re in it though!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed deeply.

“Come inside, let’s go get another drink.” He suggested, as he took you by the hand and pulled you back inside.

And for the second night in a row, you found yourself drunk and going home with Ben Hardy.

[chaniters]

Regina

Cyrus and a friend spend an entire day with Regina at the farm (Pre HB). Spoilers about basically everything book 1. 

Trigger: Death. ___________________________________

“Why do you need so many tests?” you ask as she extracts blood once again.

“You ask so many questions, sweetie. Aren’t you the most curious little bird in our nest?”

“I am not a bird,” you say with some certainty to the fact. 

“Oh haha… I forget how literal you all are” she says approaching your counterpart, taking blood from his arm as well. 

“I can pretend to be a bird if you like,” he says, proceeding to smile.

“Won’t be necessary darling. Now follow me, chop-chop you two. We’ll be spending the whole day together, your handler’s gone on vacations, and you’re with me for the weekend.

“What’s next?” he asks. 

“Well let’s see… First, we head over to the gym for your judo training, then the X-ray, and there’s some recreation time and snacks after that. Right after that we move on to echography, MRI and then you’re both scheduled for your monthly electroencephalograms.” she sighs “I’m sorry, it’s a test heavy day, but I’ll make it up to you two somehow...”

“It’s fine.” you both say in unison.

“That’s my boys” she smiles warmly, before leading the way as you follow in closely behind. 

The facility is huge, and there are tons of people going in different directions. You and your counterpart are both wearing completely white jumpers, like almost everyone else in here… except for the handlers who always wear black.

Regina’s a lone exception though since she gets to wear whatever she wants. She’s got a blue power suit that fits her like a glove as she guides you through in between her meetings. It’s pretty rare that she’d take the time to focus on two random young ones like you two, so you can call yourselves lucky. 

It all goes exceptionally well, as she cheers at every one of your achievements, whether they are large or small during the combat training, even cracking some jokes with the trainer who seems quite tense to have her here. 

The day goes exceptionally well, as the tests go on one after another. 

“This will be an adventure for you both! Just pretend you’re going to explore a cave, deep under the earth” she says as they lay you down to start your MRI tests.

You both follow her instructions, excited to go into this imaginary cave. 

Finally, you reach the electroencephalograms part, and doctors begin attaching the electrodes to your heads.

“Do we get to choose the movie?” you ask

“Can we?” he asks as well.

“Well I’m afraid that’s not allowed for you to choose, it’d mess up the results dear,” she says softly. 

“Aww,” you both say looking down. 

Oddly enough, she gives you both a soft look and then finally speaks again.

“Oh what the heck… I told you I would make it up, right? We can break the rule just this once?” she says smiling brightly. “You both get to choose our own movie! It doesn’t even have to be the same one! We’ve got more tv-sets!”

411 and you look at each other with mirrored grins. This is too good.

And so you get to watch your favorite movies again, laughing as they go on, while she stays by the monitors watching the electrode readings, taking some notes and making the occasional comment on what’s happening on the screen about your movie. 

It’s probably the happiest day of your lives. 

The movie ends, and the electrodes are pulled out.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” she asks

“Yes! Thank you” you both say

“Now, this is a special day for you two,” she says as a lab assistant brings her some results. 

“It is?” 411 asks.

“Yes. We’re about to see if you’re ready for the next stage.”

“I’m ready” you state firmly”

“And I’m ready too!”

“It’s not that simple dearies. That’s why we need to have so many tests. We can’t let just everyone get to the next stage, can we?”

“Ahh” you nod in understanding. 

She goes on silently over the two piles of paper. One for you, one for 411. 

It takes a long while before she looks up to you. 

“Oh my… I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which ones do you want first?”

“The good news!” you say

“Alright” she starts turning at you. “The good news, 412, is that you’re ready for the next stage. You’re 100% perfect and passed every exam. You are exactly whom we intended you to be”

You can feel yourself blush heavily at the highest praise, from Regina herself nonetheless. There’s nothing that could make a newborn happier.

“And what are the bad news?” 411 asks.

She bites her lip. “Well dear… I’m afraid to tell you, you passed every test except one”

“Oh. Is that bad?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so. Very bad. Look” she says extending a large picture. 

“See, this is part of the results from your MRI, and it’s detected a tiny tumor, very deep and hidden within your brain dear.”

“It looks really small,” 411 says

“Well it is now, yes, but our experts think it will grow. It will grow, and then you won’t be able to function correctly, you know?”

“That’s bad,” he says. “What can we do?”

“That’s the thing, there’s not much to do my love. We can’t really extract it or do anything to treat it. You’re not ready for the next phase”

“Oh,” he says, crushed. His thoughts are taken down, as if he was falling off a cliff, with all hopes crushed. You can see tears in your eyes, as he starts whimpering.

“I’m sorry!” he says crying

“Come on darling, these things happen and it’s nobodies fault. Don’t be sad please” she adds giving him a pat on his back, which helps him calm down a bit.

“What… am I going to do?” 

“Well, I was going to get there. You can’t get to the next phase as you are right now, so what do we do?”

“We try again, and never give up” he says, repeating a taught answer. 

“That’s right. We never, ever give up here at the Special Directive. We’re going to make you go back, back into the matrix dear, and you’ll be reformed, and remade, until you are perfect as the rest of your siblings.”

“T… thank you, miss Regina!” he stutters with emotion.

She smiles softly, before calling one of the handlers over her intercom, before turning to you.

“412, say goodbye to 411, and thank him for his service to the US government”

“Thank you, 411, for being a loyal newborn of our great nation. May the Matrix bring you to perfection” you say reciting the lines you were taught. There is a sense of finality to it. 411’s always been with you, he was assigned as the other part of your pair, and it’s going to take time to adjust to not having him around.  

“Thank you 412! I head back to the Matrix, loyal, and thankful for being given the opportunity to serve” he recites his answer as well, smiling overjoyed.

“Now, 412, please come over here. As you know, no one can see the Matrix until they reach the final phase” she says with a hand to your shoulder, guiding you to a seat. A handler approaches, in all black, putting a blindfold and a headset on your ears, making it all fall silent, except for the buzzing noise of the mind-dampener always at the back of your brain

You shift on your seat nervously. You want to see the matrix, but you’re forbidden to do so, and you’re a loyal newborn. You won’t…

The blindfold moves to the side slightly, uncovering your left eye. 

You didn’t mean to, but it just happened… 

You open your eye, turning to them to say something so they can adjust it back… When you see 411, standing with a similar blindfold, blissful expression on his face, as the handler points a loaded gun at him, removing the safety from a few steps away. 

You want to avert your gaze, but you can’t. Regina’s lips move, and you can read them. She’s telling the handler to do it. 

The gun goes off, and 411’s head jumps backward, blood on his forehead… before he just falls limp to the ground. 

Dead. You know what dead is, they taught you. 

The handler takes him away, and a couple of others begin cleaning the blood.

You quickly set up your blindfold straight so they won’t notice you saw anything.

It takes an eternity before Regina comes to you, removing your blindfold, thanking you for being such a patient newborn. She takes you back to the dorms, telling you she’ll be sending your new paired newborn soon so you won’t be alone. You take your dinner and then head to your bed, your mind racing as the images of what you saw keep repeating on your mind.

What if you fail an exam tomorrow? What if you’re not perfect? What if you have a tumor, like 411 did? What then?

You can’t allow that. You have to be perfect. 

Your life depends on it. 

____________________________________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

[ladyramora]

Hey Ram! Huge fan of your writing! Could we maybe get ambiguous WoL x Estinien or Aymeric if you've got the time? ♥️

(Yes and yes. Thank you 💞)

.....

....

...

You wake with a splitting headache, but on the softest pillows you’ve ever slept on. You bury your face in them, breathing deep with a groan — and pause as a familiar scent fills your nose.

You crack an eye open blearily, and know at once where you are.

How in the seven hells had Estinien managed to get you back to de Borel manor without waking you?

The door opens and the lord of the manor himself walks through it with a tray in hand, looking far too dazzling and bright-eyed for how early it must surely be.

“…‘stinien?” You slur in sleepy question.

Aymeric smiles, setting the tray down and helping you sit upright, fluffing your pillows gently. “He said he’d return to see you a little later this morning. He had a few errands to run.”

Aymeric hands you a glass of water which you accept gratefully. Then a bit of painkiller is next because, gods, do you need it.

“I admit,” Aymeric says in humor with a little laugh, “that when I sent Estinien off to confess his heart, I did not think you would be drinking so heavily.”

You blink at him, setting your empty glass aside as the minty tasting painkiller instantly sets in to reduce your headache. “That was you?”

Aymeric smiles with a knowing look in his eye, tilting his head. “Did you think Estinien merely took it upon himself to finally admit his interest in more than friendship?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “No, I suppose not.” Estinien had been wearing fancy cologne, after all. Aymeric’s influence, no doubt.

Ayneric hums, smoothing your hair away from your face with an elegant gloved hand.

You eye his outfit, fit more for leisurely house clothes than armor, and pat the bed beside you. “Lay down with me?”

Aymeric chuckles gently, cupping your cheek and smiling warmly as you lean into his hand. “Would that please you, my dearest?”

You nod your head, turning your cheek into his hand to kiss at his palm. “I missed you so much, Aymeric.”

Aymeric looks at you fondly. “And I you.” He moves around the bed, crawling in on the other side to shuffle close to you under the covers.

You smile at him, curling close and ducking under his arm to cuddle to him and breathe in the scent of him.

You nuzzle your nose against him, humming happily. “Mm, you always smell so nice.”

Aymeric chuckles, cupping the back of your head. He dips his chin to press a kiss to your hair, humming softly. “Well, thank you. I am rather fond of your hugs.” His hand tips your chin up, thumb stroking over your lower lip. “And your kisses, of course.”

Your face flushes, headache entirely gone thanks to the painkiller, water, and Aymeric’s own soothing presence. “Kiss me then?” You ask, eyelashes fluttering.

“Me first,” A voice interrupts, and you turn your head in surprise to find Estinien holding a steaming mug of something — coffee, tea? — and a delicate bag that you know contains one or more of your favorite pastries. Your mouth waters on reflex. Though for the pastries, or the even yummier idea of finally kissing Estinien, you know not. Both? Yes, both was good.

Estinien is looking particularly handsome as well, the sod. Unlike you, you surmise, the copious alcohol of the night before hadn’t left him with a raging headache.

“I promised I’d kiss you when you were sober,” Estinien says, kicking the door closed behind him and ignoring the soft grunt of dismay Aymeric makes watching him do it.

“And I’ll not have Aymeric steal your first kiss of the day, and muddle our kiss with the lingering feel of his stupid, full mouth.”

You look to Aymeric in apology, grinning at the raised eyebrow, almost-pleased look on his face at Estinien’s insults, and say, “If I do remember correctly, he did promise that.”

“Ah, well,” Aymeric sighs, and cups your chin to turn your face to press his lips to your cheek.

Estinien looks entirely disgruntled. “Aymeric, I will fight you.”

Aymeric chuckles gently, unrepentant.

You snort a laugh, rolling over into your back with Aymeric tucked against your side and beckon Estinien with a curl of your fingers.

“Come on, then, Azure dragoon,” you say with an impish, flattered smile. “Do you not have something tasty for me?”

Estinien glances down at the cup and bag in his hands, and says, “Aye.”

You smile at him flirtatiously, fluttering your eyelashes, “Well, I was talking about your lips, but that works, too.”

Estinien blinks, stunned, and you’re gifted with the flush of his cheeks and ears in the soft morning light.

Oh, it wasn’t fair. He was too adorable and sexy all at once with his hair all wild and lips no doubt touched up again with a shiny balm against the winter climes. Was he wearing that cologne again, too? You’d have to check, but only if he would come closer already..!

“Come to bed,” You plead, rolling over to reach out for him, and Aymeric follows to mold himself to your back, lips pressing to the back of your neck.

Estinien walks forward, and you blink, suddenly realizing he wore some sort of house slippers on his feet instead of his usual boots.

Aymeric notices where your attentions have gone and says simply, “There are no dragoon boots to be had stomping around and scratching up the floors of House de Borel.”

You smile at that and Estinien both as Aymeric sits upright with you so Estinien could hand you the drink he had brought first, careful not to spill.

It is deliciously warm in your hands, and heaven on your tongue as you take a deep sip. “Mm.” It was perfect. Just how you liked it.

He sets the bag on your lap next, and you hand Aymeric your cup to peek inside. You make a sound of delight, reaching in and snatching up your favorite pastry — one of many in the bag! Gods, you were being spoiled! — and shove it into your mouth with a moan.

“Was this part of the errands you had to run?” Aymeric asks in good humor.

Estinien grunts, watching you eat with a soft look in his eye.

“Estinien,” Aymeric says fondly. “How very sweet. And cheating, besides, I think. Trying to curry favor, hmm?”

Estinien levels him with a grumpy look, and does not deny it.

“You are!” Aymeric laughs.

You chew at the bulge of food in your mouth, taking the cup back from Aymeric to take another large sip. Saying, soft and sweet with a similar look about your face, “I’m feeling very wooed, and favorable besides.”

Aymeric tsks teasingly, “Cheating, really.”

Estinien arches a brow with a taunting grin, “How does one woo a Warrior of Light? Through their stomach seemed a safe enough bet.”

You eat another pastry, silently agreeing, and empty your mug of delicious warm beverage before setting both aside to instead make grabby hands at your favorite Azure dragoon. “Now I want Estinien flavored kisses, please.” You tap your fingers to your lips, “Your lips, ser dragoon, I must have them. Pretty please, with birch syrup on top.”

Estinien ducks his head, smiling bashfully.

“Adorable,” Aymeric comments, tickling the back of your neck with his fingers as he kisses at your shoulder. “Both of you.”

Estinien frowns through his blush, “Shut your ridiculously full mouth. I have a Warrior of Light to kiss.”

Aymeric hums, circling his arms around your waist and hugging you lazily from behind. “Go on, then.”

Estinien clears his throat, shuffling forward on his knees. You smile at him, tipping your chin up as his hands cup your face. You gasp a little with how cold his hands feel on your sleep warmed skin. Oh, his fingers were faintly trembling. Was he nervous, or just cold?

You cup his hand, turning your head to kiss his palm just as you had done with Aymeric half a bell before.

Estinien is gazing at you intensely, blue-grey eyes bright with emotion. You smile at him, and he smiles back.

He leans in, and you clutch at his collar, impatient and drawing him in.

Estinien snorts, glancing down at Aymeric’s arms wound around your hips.

“I suppose I will just have to share,” Estinien says it like it’s grudging, but his smile is pleasant, eyes fond.

“Indeed,” Aymeric murmurs, cheek tucked close to your back. Haha, was he feeling sleepy again?

You nod happily in agreement, tipping your head back, and demand, “Kisses.”

Estinien chuckles, and dips his head to do as you bid.

It was everything you’d hoped it would be and more. Estinien kisses like he fights. Intense, focused. With purpose.

You quickly become lost in the sensation of his kiss. To the taste of the balm on his lips and something dark and sweet lingering on his tongue. Chocolate? Whatever it was, you chase after the taste of it with your own tongue. Estinien gives a rumbling moan, clutching you to him desperately. You kiss for so long that your lips begin to feel sensitive, your head dizzy with him.

Aymeric clears his throat with a soft “ahem” and you both pause, drawing away like you’d forgotten he’d been there.

“So greedy, Estinien. I should also like a turn,” Aymeric says in mild reprimand, and leans in whilst turning your cheek to claim your lips as well. You lean into him helplessly, still dazed from Estinien’s kisses.

Ohh, Aymeric was an accomplished kisser as well. It was good that he reminded you, lest you forget. You give a soft whimper, feeling entirely greedy and far too spoiled.

“I was hardly finished,” Estinien growls at Aymeric, and tips your face back towards him to kiss you again, harder this time.

You drag your fingers through his hair, groaning lowly, and then turn your face without promting to kiss Aymeric as well, cupping the back of his head and twining your fingers through the satin of his dark, gently curling hair.

Estinien makes a sound of disgruntle, and you switch back to him, twisting locks of Aymeric’s hair around your fingers as Aymeric kisses at your neck and shoulder with hot, stupid full lips.

Your lips are buzzing, throbbing with your heartbeat, but you can hardly stop under such decadent attentions. Perhaps you’re greedy, but it was hardly your fault. Mayhap the blame should be placed upon the Gods that made these two far too irresistible.

Or on the powers themselves that wrote your Fate so intertwined with the both of them.

Aymeric claims your attention again, sucking your bottom lip between his own, with wicked blue bedroom eyes under a fan of charcoal dark eyelashes.

Estinien sucks a mark under your jaw, softly growling, “I will not yield to you!”

You shiver, eyelashes fluttering, and foolishly blurt, “Are we... about to have sex?”

Estinien pauses. Aymeric as well.

“You’re right,” Aymeric says, pulling back and swishing aside the hair that had fallen into his eyes. “We might be getting a little carried away, Estinien. This is not a competition, nor a race. We should not push our lover too fast in a bid to show the other up.”

Estinien grunts, and nips you. You give a soft yip, cupping around his ears as Estinien kisses up your jaw to your lips to kiss you firmly one more time.

“Aymeric is right,” Estinien admits, grudgingly. “Forgive us, we were… overzealous.”

You flush, shifting in place. “I’m not complaining. It wasn’t bad, I’m just…” Not ready for both of them that way yet. “We should,” you point your finger between you and Estinien, “first. You know? Before we,” you clear your throat, adding Aymeric to the equation — who was all smiles, but still with intense bedroom eyes. “With all of us, together.”

Estinien nods, smiling hesitantly. “Indeed. I agree with that sentiment. I should like to have your full attention the first time.”

You bob your head, cheeks burning. “Good,” you squeak, then clear your throat. “Good. Um… Can we,” you look between them, smiling and ducking your head sheepishly. “Can we still cuddle, though? And the… the kissing was nice,” you lick at your kiss-bruised lips, “just maybe… slower? Softer?”

Aymeric hugs you from behind, humming gently. “I think we can manage that, my dearest.”

Estinien is nodding, shuffling after you as Aymeric pulls you back to lay down with him.

Estinien inches forward as you hold your arms open for him, and then sinks into your embrace with a soft sigh.

You breathe deep, and chuckle. Estinien was wearing that cologne again, and the combined smell of their mingling scents was quite pleasing indeed.

“Your cologne smells nice,” you say softly, winding locks of Estinien’s hair around your fingers.

Estinien hums, cuddling you close, and dragging his fingers over Aymeric’s side just behind you. “All Aymeric’s doing, actually.”

You smile. “I thought so. He has good taste.”

Aymeric kisses your shoulder, voice sweet as he murmurs, “Why thank you.”

Estinien hums, pulling you forward and shifting you to lay on your back. You blink up at him, and then Aymeric, as they both prop up in their elbows to smile down at you.

“Kisses were included, yes?” asks Aymeric.

You nod, cheeks blushing and lips tingling.

Estinien nods, “Good. Then kisses you shall have.”

[angelaiswriting]

The Assistant (1 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x reader

[original picture: pinterest i love these fucking hands]

✏️ Pairing: (eventual) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader + probably other pairings, I don’t know yet, we’ll have to wait and see.

✏️ Requested by Anonymous: Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ A/N: bitch yeah. Special thanks to @therealcalicali : thanks to her sweet message, I managed to rewrite this chapter and make it completely different (the first version sucks like probably nothing else in the universe) and now I like it. Hopefully, Anon, you’ll enjoy it too!! A small heads-up first, though: I wouldn’t count on quick updates if I were you. I’m still having some shit going on at home and I’m also a slow writer, so yeah. I hope to make this a good story, though!

✏️ A/N 2: the title is most likely not definitive. Hopefully, I won’t have to change it, but maybe I will have to, to make it and the story fit well together. Also, my brain goes on auto-pilot when I have to write for Vladimir (bc I need to fangirl, too haha), so I don’t exactly know what I was trying to prove with this chapter, but I still love it... so pls don’t come for my head haha

✏️ Warnings: violence, mentions of an erection (haha it wouldn’t be me otherwise), so 18+ only !!! or so help me god!

✏️ Word-count: 2,678

REQUESTS ARE OPEN IF YOU WANT ME TO WRITE FOR YOU 💛

CHAPTER ONE: RULES

Underground fights had always fascinated Vladimir Ranskahov, even when he was a kid back in Moscow. Part of the reason was that they were illegal, but there was also something else, some sort of aftertaste that lingered in his mouth even when he’d go home and lay in bed. They made his body buzz with unleashed energy and if that couldn’t be considered his drug, he really didn’t know what else could.

He had always been a regular, even in his hectic first weeks in New York: he had had to start from scratch, but he had managed to make himself a name. He was strong, he never lost; he was like Ivan Drago, with the only difference that there was no Rocky that could beat him, not if he sparred with Tolik.

It had been a long day at work and he was glad he had managed to find the time to escape into the fighting underworld. There was something there, something that lingered in the air and mingled with the smell of sweat and blood, that took all his worries and threw them out of the window. It was relaxing, almost rejuvenating. It kept his mind busy and his body ready for every eventuality–and, hopefully, smashing Fisk’s bootlicker face in would be one of those eventualities.

If it hadn’t been for his brother, who had dragged him away from places like that years ago, he would still be fighting. Obviously, there was no need for Anatoly to know he still hung out at such places: he would pointlessly worry and he would take Vladimir’s only pastime right out of his grasp. It didn’t matter he loved and cared for Tolya, he was not going to give up on this, for he needed it–he needed it more than vodka and sex and cigarettes, more than money and probably more than air. It had also been one of the only ways he’d managed to survive back there–rule number one: avoid its name–and he was not ready to let fighting go–rule number two: always be ready for history to repeat itself.

So, as he walked through the crowded space, he lit himself a cigarette with a smile on his face. He didn’t smile often, but this life… Oh, this life! It brought him back home, where he and others had used to fight like rats–rarely to the death, most often to first blood.

Oh, boy. Oh, fuck. He could feel it: the adrenaline starting to kick in, sending his brain in override. He almost didn’t feel the smoke of the cigarette as it sank down in his lungs and then made its way back up and out of his nostrils, like a bull in a cartoon.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He didn’t even feel people bumping into and shoving him as they tried to reach the makeshift ring in the middle of the place. It was like floating in the air, like being a kid on Christmas day–he had never felt that way on Christmas day, but he thought that was how he’s feel had he had the right family.

The vibrations of his phone buzzing in the rear pocket of his suit pants didn’t even make its way to his brain, for Vladimir’s eyes had already zoomed in on the fight going on before him. It had to either be to death or knockout, for first blood had already been drawn and the fighters didn’t seem to be willing to stop.

Blood rushed to his fingers and it almost felt like being there, throwing punches and dodging hooks. The muscles in his back almost spasmed and even though the movements were imperceptible, the sensations were real: he was back in Moscow and he was seventeen. He had been foolish enough to challenge someone twice his age just because the guy had called him ‘a snotty kid’–which he had never been, for he had never had the time nor the chance to be a kid, let alone be snotty. So, he had thrown in his metaphorical glove and had been lucky enough, for the other one–Moscow’s underworld champion–had picked the challenge up.

He had been an idiot and Anatoly had kept on reminding him for months after the fight. That night he had come home with a purple face, a half-closed eye, a split lip, a pulsing eyebrow, a bloody mouth, but holy fucking fuck, he had got out victorious from the fight. He had been on edge for days after that and he had never been called a ‘snotty kid’ again. Nothing had ever made him feel higher than the knowledge that he had accidentally beaten Moscow’s biggest moron.

Therefore, watching the two sparring men in front of him made him feel at home. If he focused enough, he could even erase the English voices and shouts and replace them with Russian profanities, just like that night.

His phone started to buzz again and this time he felt it against his buttcheek, but still chose to ignore it. This was his safe heaven and he wasn’t going to let business or any other thing slip into it unwelcome.

Just as the vibrations stopped, the bigger guy fell to the floor, unconscious, blood slowly dripping out of his nose like a fat, red worm. The winner, a taller but thinner red-haired guy, spat blood and a tooth to the floor and with a scream, raised both his fists to the ceiling and planted a foot on the looser’s stomach. Then, in his victory- and adrenaline-induced rage, he spotted Vladimir. That fucking well-dressed son of a bitch was staring at him and his sight seemed to zoom in on the blonde’s scarred face like in a movie. He decided he didn’t like that guy’s smirk, nor the forgotten cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth, dusting ashes to the ground.

This was no place for rich motherfuckers.

He kicked the other man’s side with his boot and the man groaned. He groaned even more when a couple of viewers dragged him away from the center of the room: still half-unconscious, he weighed like a truck as his feet dragged themselves on the floor.

The ginger spat again and took a step forward, pointing at Vladimir with an accusing finger. “You, dick,” he half-yelled: his voice sounded as broken as his split front tooth. “What are you staring at, motherfucker?”

Vladimir’s hands had a will of their own as they tightened into fists and he had to unclench his crossed arms. His cigarette trembled between his lips before falling to the ground. He stepped on it, slamming his foot in an angry attempt to put it out.

“What did you call me?” He had to fight against his brain, for it had been ready to switch back to Russian. And he sure as hell didn’t want that carrot top to use Russian as an excuse to get out alive from that place.

The other spat blood and saliva to Vladimir’s feet–he didn’t know if that was a tic or a way to insult him, but he didn’t care. “This place is not for people like you.”

‘People like him’. Vladimir burst out laughing. What did that even mean? That it wasn’t for mafiosi? Or former fighters? Human traffickers? Drug traffickers? Killers? He’d put that man’s victory to shame just by using his pinky finger. He laughed again.

“To the death.” The gingerhead raised his chin in a derogatory gesture before picking his guard back up.

Rule number three: never back out of a fight.

Vladimir smirked. “I am not sure you want to leave world so soon.” His accent was as thick as the blood splattered on the floor, but at that moment he didn’t care. Hand-to-hand spoke only one language and it was that of blood and the last time he checked, Russians and Americans bled the same. Nonetheless, he still took off his suit jacket, carefully folded it and laid it on the ground before he let his phone fall on it.

“I don’t die,” the other snickered, throwing a couple of punches through the air to show off. “No rules, just what plain death can say.”

Volodya nodded as he grabbed his gun. It was a comfortable weight in his hands–cold, but nonetheless still alive, still blood-thirsty. He checked the number of bullets–just to show off–, took the safety off, aimed and smirked before he put the safety back on and the gun back in its holster. He wasn’t planning on using it, but ‘no rules’ meant ‘no rules’ and if that brat thought he could win dirty… well, Vladimir had grown up playing dirty, so he’d show him was real shit looked like.

“C’mon, what are you waiting for?” His opponent was bouncing his weight from one foot to the other, his fists high up in front of his face. He was panting as he tried to intimidate Vladimir Ranskahov–had he known who that guy was, he had never picked up a fight with him. “Throwing in the towel, are we?”

Vladimir never took his gaze off the other’s smirk as he unbuttoned his sleeves and rolled them up his arms. The thin cotton seemed to be on the verge of bursting as it stretched on his biceps. Too bad no one there knew the meaning of his tattoos, on display under the neon lights hanging from the low ceiling.

Fools, he thought. Motherfucking fools that thought insulting and challenging people like him would end the day in a hospital bed and not on a stainless-steel table in a morgue.

He positioned himself before the red-haired guy, a couple of inches taller than him, but not as strong, not as quick, not as knowledgeable. His leg hurt from the fight with the bigger guy, an older bruise was perched on his shoulder and half of his face had turned yellow from an older fight. His fists were too wide apart, just like his feet, and his guard was too low. Vladimir would have managed to break his nose even with his eyes closed.

The opponent threw a punch, which Vladimir dodged. Then he threw another and another, left, right, left. Vladimir was dodging them all effortlessly, bouncing on his feet, getting out of the other’s way.

He was still waiting to make his move, checking the other’s weaknesses–or pretending to be doing that. He sat on a much higher level: that guy had made the mistake of challenging a shark when all he was, was a fish. His only luck was that today had been a great day for Vladimir: he and his brother had gotten their money, received a cargo of twelve women, and, better than anything else, there hadn’t been a meeting scheduled with Fisk’s bootlicker, Wesley. He felt like he could spare this one life.

But then the other started to insult him, calling him a weakling, a girl, and Vladimir didn’t see anything anymore. He had stopped being a person and had become pure rage–so big and furious it was indescribable. Its blood-thirst had become his own, its fury had become his fury, his blindness had become its sight. It had taken him three punches to knock out his challenger: one to his left cheek, the other to his stomach, the third had been a hook from below to his nose.

The ginger top had fallen to the ground like a sack of potatoes, unconscious, his nose broken. And just like that, he remembered the other’s words: ‘no rules’. For a moment he had been on the verge of using his gun: he was going to drill him with his bullets and then leave him on the ground until he bled to death. But he wasn’t going to use that upper hand, not even when he had been called a ‘dickless Russian scumbag’–had that guy seen his dick, he would have choked on his tongue.

He bent down above the opponent, contemplated snapping his neck broken, before bursting out in another laughter. “Tell him to come back to me when he’s grown into a man, I will kill him then,” he laughed, picking up his jacket and phone and making his way out of that place.

Hell’s Kitchen night traffic welcomed him when he came back into the world. It was like being re-born again: he felt new as the chilly air reached his lungs and a smile plastered itself on his lips. Vladimir Ranskahov stretched his neck from side to side, rolled back his shoulders and heaved a sigh.

What a great day to be alive!

He could feel himself half-hard from the fight and the adrenaline and grinned as he thought of going home, down a couple shots of vodka, hopping into the shower and jerk off–it was too good a day to worsen it with a whore. He couldn’t even feel the stinging sensation in his knuckles as he made his way to his car, sat inside and gripped the steering wheel with more force than it was needed.

Right then, his phone went off again on the passenger seat. A look at it and he groaned–Tolik. He ignored rule number five (never let anyone ruin your post-fight glow) and accepted the call.

“What?” he groaned, starting the car and getting out into the street. He put his phone on speaker, threw it back onto the passenger seat and lit himself a cigarette before rolling down the window to let the cool night air in.

Tolya swore under his breath. “Where the fuck were you? I’ve been calling you for hours, motherfucker!”

Volodya grinned, his eyes still veiled from the bliss that had overcome him after the fight. “Out, having fun.”

“Keep it in your pants next time. There was an emergency meeting back at the garage and you and your dick should’ve been there and not in some chick’s cunt.” His Russian ran fast on his tongue, it dripped anger from every word, shooting bullets at Vladimir’s fourth rule.

Boy, was his brother wrong! Vladimir laughed. “Jesus, brother, don’t ruin my mood,” he managed to say when all he wanted to do was groan like an animal. “Should have waited tomorrow morning.”

“Wesley wants to see us tomorrow, so you’d better be there. Sex can wait.”

“You should fuck more often, brother. When was the last time you banged someone? Your dick will dry out,” he laughed, his shoulders relaxing as his apartment complex came in sight.

Anatoly cussed him.

“Why an emergency meeting?” Vladimir asked, changing subject and parking in his lot. Sure, they had been having some problems lately, but nothing too big and definitely nothing Fisk should be worried about.

“Wesley will bring a chick.”

He snickered. “And? If he wants to fuck in front of us, I’m not against it. It might be his chance to show me he has a dick and is not ball-less.”

“It’s not his girl. Rumor has it she’s some hacker that works for him.”

There was silence as he walked up the stairs and into his apartment. Why did that matter? She could be a whore by profession and he would still be uninterested.

“Look, be there. I don’t want to end up in trouble just because my stupid brother ditched me. The weasel said not to mess things up and I don’t want to. I need you there tomorrow. You can do whatever you want after the meeting, but if you don’t want that girl to hack into our business and fuck us up, you’ll be there.”

“Yeah, fine.”

His mood was ruined, his half hard-on wasn’t hard anymore, and all he could feel was the pulsing pain in his knuckles. If there was something he knew for certain, that was Wesley’s and Tolik’s ability to fuck his mood any time they wanted.

And if that girl set her mind to fuck their business... She’d better start praying.

>> chapter two >>

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I wanted to wait to post this, but... HAHAHA when do I ever listen to my goddamn brain? Hint: never.

Feedback is always welcome. Contrary to what I said I wanted to do in another post, I still don’t have a plan for this story (I’m so sorry), so if there’s something you want to see in this story or if you have suggestions in general, feel free to contact me :)

It’s so weird to know that ‘mafiosi’ is still ‘mafiosi’ in English haha this fucked me up as I was writing

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask. Same goes for ‘Bratva’)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892  @mblaqgi

Bratva (people not on the lists but that might still be interested): @sweetvengeancee @theranskahovs @brobachev