#clearly im in my feels writing these two dummies

[shurisneakers]

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically.  “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up. 

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.”  He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

[mopillow]

oh nono! im also afraid of offending when discussing topics this long lol! but i get it- i think i personally just dont think much how jian yi needs to be clearer, but rather if zhen xi will become more than a man of just "actions" but also maybe more "words" as well. because the more jian yi shoots in the dark of what will/wont work to see if zhen xi is actually into him, theyre both going to get nowhere! we're already confused with zhen xis feelings toward jian yi after his confession in that basketball chapter, so i just imagine its still confusing in the future since all zhen xi gives off is "i already like you enough to be friends-what else you want from me." like i literally forgot jian yi already straight up confessed until i was writing this, so now im like "ahh now i know why im waiting for zhen xi to be the one to say something," cause he knew damn straight for years haha!

i think im just hesitant too because i dont fully get still these comparisons of charatcers and the results of development though their actions. like even your point “hey dude we’re not boyfriends why are you touching me without my consent”- i swear i dont mean to point fingers but i see that with tianshan too. hetian is now getting more humble but that wasnt always the case. so i just dont get how one couple is getting these different results when i see similarities in both- unless the answer is just the beauty of diversity in writing/characters and how they get together.

and i wouldnt say jian yi is sly persay- i always interperted it as a purposeful parallel with tian (i just love parallels, boy lmty). like you got two guys who both want to be confident and take initiative- one is more sucessful, the other has more characteristics that counteract that. bc i dont think jian yi is shy at all- just scared. he has breakdowns whenever his sexuality is brought up or his feelings revealed toward his best friend. i think its more like he wants to be seen as confident and forward as hetian, but is wrapped up in these fears and his dummy ways that he just goes from 0 to 100 way too quick for his own good. i hope this doesnt make you see him as the villain though loll!

We cool then, I like that we respect each other’s points of view,let me reply to this in different points so I can be more specific

Confession time

let’s start with how that confession happened

ZZX asked, it didn’t came out of JY freely, I believe that Xixi and all of us understood that he needed to give an answer but, and please don’t take this the wrong way, even tho is taking him forever he didn’t turn him down, between the kiss and the confession ZZX made up his mind to give this a chance it is fair to take your time to give a reply when you’re not sure about your feelings, in my opinion is way worse to jump into a relationship just because your best friend likes you and JY isn’t asking to be more than that, let me be clear Xixi is taking him seriously and JY is the one who is content with being friends, for some people they rather stay friends forever than live without them. True JY gave a big step forward when he kissed ZZX but he’s also the one who asked to just be friends, he’s the one who’s always telling ZZX to ask other people out and people can tell me that this is because JY doesn’t see any interest but the guy keeps telling him “what about you?” Could we give ZZX the benefit of the doubt and think that maybe just maybe he is also waiting for JY to make up his mind?? To be ready and decide if he wants something more?? Is not easy for both of them, but in the future when JY is not harassing ZZX the later one gives him what he isn’t asking, I’m not talking about the kiss but reassurance

*Please notice that this angel didn’t took advantage of a drunk person who was clearly taking advantage of his drunken state

JY just needs to be honest and stop playing safe and if ZZX is guilty of something that is being too soft, he should grab JY and just straight tell him “look stop this friends with benefits bs and just ask me to be your boyfriend”

Different couples different outcomes

I see the point of HT is also touching Mo but the big difference is that HT did it since day 3, ZhanYi never had this kind of interaction, they do behave like a couple some times but not in the hands all over each other type contrary to TianShan, not saying that JY doesn’t want to just that he tries in the wrong way.

I have been talking about the He Tian effect for quite a while, basically people see HT fucking thriving and think that maybe they should be more like him and just erase the word shame of their vocabulary, problem is that this strategy is made to work with Mo Guan Shan and Mo Guan Shan only, it looks easy but HT didn’t just woke up one day and said “today I’m gonna give zero fucks about personal space and just go for it” nope this man carefully studied MGS reactions and made a tailored strategy to win his affections, the case study of cargo in the elevator is a good reference for this, he does loses his patience and comes out as a brute but that is not all he’s doing or what’s helping him win MGS’s heart, although JY may think that that’s the case, so he is trying to behave similarly, he should try to just open up, ZZX not being MGS would give him what he wants, I would expect for JY to know this.

In there rare occasions that he does something only using his brain ZZX’s response is favorable, why he doesn’t keep trying? I honestly don’t know, if HT had seen Mo bushing after he put a skirt on I can assure you that he would be wearing one every damn time they’re alone

yes JY is scared in the present time, only in front of ZZX tho because when he’s with other people he doesn’t hesitate to express what he wants, but if he isn’t ready to risk nothing he isn’t going to win no matter how much he waits and that is not ZZX’s fault, over all I think ZZX has been understanding but he can do so much without forcing JY to make up his mind because he clearly already made his

Things just got worse in the future, in my opinion and here is where I see him cunning, as you said if both of them can’t agree that they need to talk about it they’re doom, we know that they’re not but how they’re going to get together is still a mystery to me although I have my money in ZZX giving up on JY ever talking clear to him and just telling him “this is the date for our wedding just do me a favor an show up in time”

It is frustrating although i believe that OX is consistent with the character and i still have hopes that one day he’s going to realize that he needs to change his strategy because is not working, at least not at the speed we would prefer.

I really want for Jian Yi to talk about it, is a personal preference and I understand people have different opinions I just don’t consider fair to blame only one of them, not you Anon but there’s people out there who are not so nice with ZZX, apologies for the late reply I’m actually doing this at my job now everyone knows that I’m to male friendship if you ask me is their fault for making me come on Saturday

[nhinxsworld]

Hello, I really enjoyed your piece about Gojou's kinks in your masterlist! I was wondering if you write for male reader? Maybe a third year that Gojou likes to punish and degrade in praticular and be possessive over? (Sentimental Gojou?? He's been teaching him since his first year) Reader isn't weak or innocent but he lets Gojou treat him the way he does because he doesn't have anyone else in his life and Gojou has him wrapped around his little finger? Take it wherever you like, I'm sorry if this is too fucked up x

Is this what you wnated Im not sure!!! But i liked the request anyways 🥰 was little confused about what to do about male reader since I myself am not male! but it was fun to try i hope I did you justice on this :)

reader has Inumakis curse!!!

Gojo Satoru x male reader

my list uwu

warnings: manipulation ; non-con/dub-con(?) ; just slight degradation ; yeah im not good at this probably a couple uncomfortable stuff usage of slut etc.

Gojo Satoru loves all his students, he really does yet he still can't help himself but to pick favorites. They've all grown on him, but he can't seem to take his eyes of one specific student.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out who Gojos favorites are, it's easy to tell his favorite is his beloved third year.

Picking you up since you're only fifteen, Gojo had a liking the way you just seemed to always search for his validation. For you it has always been Gojo, Gojo, Gojo.

He has his pretty boy, by a leash and he decides how long it is.

The soccerer hums happily when he sees you in the classroom all alone, stepping inside he closes the room, causing you to look up at him.

"(Y/n)~" he calls almost too sweetly and puts his hand on the table pushing whatever you've been doing out of the way.

The rattling of paper, is heard. Before the paper could even land on the floor. He pulled down your mask to reveal your curse pattern, gripping you by your jaw "(Y/n)" he repeats and you look at him, eyes staring at his blindfold where his would usually be, yet you couldn't help yourself but trail from his blindfold to his rosy lips.

Just staring at him not able to say a word.

"Am I not your favorite?" he asks and you just stare at him. Why was he asking that, of course he is your favorite. Who else could it be?

Not allowing you to give him any kind of answer, he presses his tumb to your lips pushing at your bottom lip until, you bought out your tongue to lick and suck at his finger, making him smile.

"Haha of course I am your favorite. Who else would indulge such a dirty boy like you?" he chuckles as he spits in your face making you close your eyes instinctively. "Surely not Yuuta. Yuuta didn't pick you up when you needed someone the most now did he?"

Opening your eyes you shoke your head as Gojo just watches his spit run down your cheek like tears before he whipes it out in your face, his fingers lingering over your curse marks.

"That's right Sensei did." he reminds you once again, that it was him that took you in. It's him who made you, who you are and he can take it all away if he desires.

The older tugs at your shirt "Take everything off."

Starring at him for a moment you unbuttoned your uniform, that Gojo had chosen for you. Like many other choices, Gojo did them all for you.

Stripping of the shirt, taking off the shoes, slipping of the pants, your reached for you boxers too, taking everything of for the man before you. You're just so willing to listen to everything he says.

Pushing you down against the table he hums looking at your exposed body, the room feeling a couple degrees too cold now fully exposed, yet some other parts of your body are burning.

His large hands presses against a bruise on your side watching whince in pain and he just smiles "You see (Y/n), I have nothing against Yuuta. I like him, he is a precious student just like you."

Tracing over the bruise from your training session with the other pupils Gojo just laughs "But I have an issue, if you're getting hurt because of Yuuta."

Fingers digging into your bruise, until he hears you whine "because you're mine, this body is mine and I don't like my property getting damaged."

His, his body, his property, those words seems to spiral in your mind. His, his his, it's something you wished for. You remember clearly, the day you ran to him needing his comfort, his guidance, his touch.

Another laugh escapes his lips as he stares you down "Did my pathetic boys cock just twitch from me digging into his wounds?"

His grip gets even harsher "Or is it because this wound is caused by Yuuta? It's because of me right?"

You didn't answer him, it's none of those two options right? He had made you strip down in classroom, you're just anticipating for something else right? You're not getting off to him hurting you like this right?

A smirk spreads across his face "This bruised is caused by Sensei yeah?" he traces over it slowly as it has taken an even darker colour than before and you looked at him with scared eyes.

You weren't sure when it took a turn into this direction, from wanting to be with him, needing him as figure to guide you through the dark, to now depending your whole existence on him.

"You look so exited." he smiles as he traces careful lines under your eyes "Did you miss me?" he presses against the bruise soflty just to remind me you again of the aching pain "You can't live without my touch can you?"

You're terrified to feel this way, even more terrified the way your cock twitches from feeling like this.

He gives you a look of pity "I've told you, you're mine." Knocking against your head with his finger knuckle "Your dumb brain hasn't understood yet hmm? But your body has, and it's so honest."

"Don't you like it when Sensei talks down on you?" he questioned as he cups your face "I'd call you my pretty boy, but that doesn't make your little cock hard now does it?"

"It only does when I call you a pathetic slut, who is needy of my attention." his voice growls and to your confusion your body does react to those words, supporting his statements.

His hand gripped your throat with an amused yet somewhat judgemental face, he squeezes your neck just tiny bit, until he can hear you choke "You like this too don't you? When I'm mean, when I hurt you?"

It's hard to deny, to shake your head, wanting to tell him no, when you can't speak and you're body giving a completely diffrent answer. A harsh slap to your face, has you feeling it in your lower area.

"Haha~" he smiles "Pitifully cute aren't you?"

"You love sensei so much don't you? Your body grew accustomed to Sensei touching you the way he likes it hmm?" he askes you questions for questions knowing well you couldn't protest against him.

"Remember when you used to whimper around so cutely? When I used to praise you?" the older beams, reminiscing of older times "Sensei is your first hmm? He took such good care of you didn't he?"

"Such good care of you and your body." Gojo hums, pinching and twisting your nipples until they're hard "I had fun."

"It's so honest just for me now." The soccerer sounds proud of himself, proud to have taken such a pure boys first with love and care, just to slowly drift of that road.

Binding you to him with promises and words of love.

You felt a lash like feeling on your body, caused by his infinity "stop..." you choked out and he tilts his head to the side "Stop? You know that doesn't work on me dummy."

"When has it ever?" he laughs as he traces over your curse marks once again "Besides why would you want me to stop?"

"You like being bruised and hurt by me, no?" he continued and you want refuse, tell him no, but all you're able to do is shake you're head at him until he decides to hold your face still forcing you to nod.

"Don't lie to me." he pulls down his blindfold to reveal the sky blue eyes you've fallen in love with "You wanted me to do this, don't you remember?"

"You're such a good boy. I love you so much (Y/n). You're so perfect, I promise I'll be gentle, just tap me when I need to stop okay?"

-

"(Y/n), can we try something? Ill take it slow."

The first time you tapped against his skin, asking him to stop, with tears running down your cheeks and he stops to kissi your marks "Don't worry baby, haha see I stopped." Yet you failed to notice his cock just growing harder in his pants from the way you're crying.

-

Cries and taps, rapid taps against his shoulders, that turned into slaps, you're voice breaking from telling him to stop, an activation of your curse until he halts, blood running down your lips, you failed to notice how your curse didn't effect him "Awww no don't cry, it's okay, it's okay. I won't hit you anymore, if you don't like it. I love you, you don't have to do these things, because I like them. Don't worry about me, I give you what you need. You don't seem to like the things I do, maybe we should stop here."

-

The older had stopped touching you from there on just smiling and waving when sees you, no hugs, no kisses, no praise, nothing comes from him after what had happened making you feel guilty. This is you're fault isn't it?

Gojo always indulged in yours needs, why couldn't you indulge in his.

So the next time you see him you stopped him in his tracks, taking his hands in yours, already felling special as he had let you through his infinity. Bringing his hand to your face, you slapped yourself, and if you could see his eyes widen underneath his mask.

"Hmm? What's that for little one?"

Tugging your neck piece down you looked at him "Hurt me. Love me."

"Remember??" he looks psychotic "you wished for me to do this, I'm indulging in your fantasy. You've placed this curse on yourself, you placed this curse on us."

Gojo never leaves himself unprotected from your curse speech.

The soccerer never lets himself be vulnerable, specially not such technique as yours that is just so easy to block out. You can scream and hurt your pretty throat all you want, he won't be having any of that.

Gojo wraps his hands around yours and bought it up to his cheek slapping himself "Hurt me. Love me"

"That's what you did. I had nothing to do with that." he chuckles "You did that all on your own. I didn't force you, you wanted to be mine and I made you mine. You have to hold responsibility you know?"

Bringing you down to your knees infront of him unzipping his own pants "Don't strain yourself, you don't have to to say anything. Sensei knows, he always knows best for you hmm?"

Pumping his own cock a couple times he forced it into your mouth "Now be good boy."

Hands gripping onto his tight as he just fucks your mouth to his content, just so he can hear you choke and see you cry.

He just can't help himself when his pretty boy looks so lewd sucking him off, like it's the only thing you're made for.

"Hmmm, fuck. Might as well just be my full-time cocksleeve, if you like getting bruised and hurt so much, I'll just have to do it." he chuckled as you felt another lash like feeling against your skin making you moan.

"Awww, such a painslut aren't you?" he smirks as he looks down on you to admire his mess, his hand in your hair forcing down more than you can take "Come on slut, you've done this often enough."

A groan escapes his lips as he pulls you off him allowing you to breath "stop, please...." your voice broken and hoarse and just smiles "Didn't I tell you already not to strain yourself? You're so funny trying to pull these things on me."

No matter what you say, no matter what you do with Gojo it has no use, until it's something he wants himself.

"Or are you just that much of a plain slut? Needing to damage yourself as much as possible?" he asks as you felt the cold sole of his shoes pressed against your cock.

"Pathetically cute." he beams when he sees you're all hard and leaking, just from the way he talks to you and the sole of his shoes pressing against your lenght.

"Oh sensei loves you so much." he grins as he places a stinging slap to your face that stings and burns "And I show it through the pain I cause, I know you need this."

[illfoandillfie]

please give me Anything himbo roger i need this like perhaps... him being obsessed with eating pussy? pls? - cloud anon

I’m so so so glad you requested more himbo rog because i love any excuse to write him lmao. This is a bit of a long one, certainly well over blurb length but what are you gonna do. I just have a lot of thots where himbo rog is concerned and then there was that convo a little while ago about dressing him in a maid uniform and I had to use it in here. 

warnings: smut, hypnosis & bimbofication, dom!reader, fingering, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, a little bit of spanking, a little choking, a very brief mention of public sex, free use (perhaps leaning ever so slightly into consensual non consent), humiliation and degradation

Blurb Advent: Day 15

Future Management Series (all my bimbo/himbo writing)

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini  

The costume shop was quiet when you entered it, one of the fluorescent lights at the far end flickering. The lady at the counter looked up from her magazine, her gaze lingering on Roger for a moment before she looked back down.

“What was the theme again?” you asked Roger as you flicked through a rack of women’s costumes.

“The letter M,” he replied from one of the other racks.

“How did Freddie pick that?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him. Bigger question is what are we going to wear.”

“What about Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” you shrugged.

“That sounds easy. And we’d look cute as fuck.”

“Sorry, hun,” the woman at the counter piped up, “Sold out of them two days ago.”

“Rats.”

“Mice, love,” Roger teased poking his tongue out as he went to check out another row of costumes, “We could make them from scratch I suppose.”

“Left it a bit late though. We’re meant to have them by Saturday.” You headed to the counter in the hopes that the woman there would be able to speed things up, “Do you have any other costumes starting with M then?”

She sighed as she were being interrupted in a very important task before putting down her magazine and pulling out a binder full of lists of stock. Flicking through it she located the section with M. An awful lot of it had been crossed out.

“How many people are invited to this thing? And do they all shop here?”

He shrugged as he joined you at the counter, “Roughly half of London if his last party was anything to go by. What are our options?”

The women smiled at Roger, her attitude becoming much friendlier now that he was involved, “Not a lot I’m afraid. We’ve still got a Mummy, as in Ancient Egypt, ummm, a Maid, as in French, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins, a Monk, Mrs Clause, Medieval Princess…”

“Looks like you’ll be easy to sort out,” Roger said to you, “not much in the way of mens costumes though. I’d be an alright Mummy I guess,”

“Sorry, should have specified. It’s a women’s costume that one. Very sexy,”

“How do you make a Mummy sexy?”

“Strategically removed bandages. I can show you if you like,” she said this last part to Roger, suggestion dripping from every word.

“What about the Monk?” you suggested.

“Ehhhh,”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Rog.”

“Alright, it’s the backup idea. Would I be able to fit in any of those other costumes though?”

The woman thought about it, giving Roger a once over as if measuring him with just her eyeballs, “The Maid maybe. Think we should have one large enough.”

“Alright I’ll try that.”

“And I’ll go Marilyn Monroe?”

“You as Marilyn? Oh there’s a joke in there somewhere…something about How To Mary A Millionaire?”

You shook your head at him, “Just go and try on your dress,”

It was a good thing Roger had no qualms about cross dressing because the maid outfit fit perfectly. One look at Roger’s legs in the short, ruffled skirt had your mind whirring with ideas. He bought both your costumes, adding in a maid’s headband and fishnet stockings for himself and a blond Marilyn wig for you. And on Saturday night you watched him don the outfit once more, struggling to keep your hands off him. Without you knowing, he’d gone and bought himself a pair of simple black heels, explaining that if he was going to do it he might as well do it properly. Unfortunately for you they just emphasised the shape of his legs in the fishnets and made his hips sway as he walked.

 The party itself was fun but you constantly found yourself zoning out, thinking about what you’d like to do to Roger before he got out of the dress.

“Love?” he asked, making you blink yourself back to the thumping music and loud voices, “You alright?’

“Fine,” you nodded.

Roger frowned and grabbed your hand, leading you away from the main throng of people, “You’ve been zoning out all night, are you sure you’re okay? Haven’t had too much to drink or anything?”

“No, it’s fine. Someone lit up a joint before and I must have breathed in some of it without meaning to.”

He gave you a look like he knew there was more to it.

“Also, maybe I can’t stop thinking about trancing you in that dress.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened and if it hadn’t been as dark as it was you would have seen a light pink stain creeping up his neck. He glanced around and then pulled you off down the hall and towards an even quieter spot, “and um, what might that look like?”

“I don’t know, got a few ideas,” your breath hitched as Roger pushed you into a dark corner of whichever room you’d ended up in, “like the idea of you on your knees. Bet I could see your arse if you leaned forward enough.”

Roger attached his lips to your throat, oblivious of if anyone else was around.

“Maybe spanking you or edg – ” you were cut off as Roger kissed you full on the mouth, his hands already working at getting his underwear and stockings down far enough to get his dick out.

“We’ll continue this conversation at home,” he said as he lifted you up, pushing your back against the wall as he moved your underwear aside.

 It took a couple of days for the topic to come up again but Roger was still just as into it as he had been at the party. He’d clearly been thinking about it too because he had almost as many ideas as you did and for a week or so you discussed it on and off. It came up intermittently, sometimes a single idea out of nowhere.

“What if you tranced me and made me think I was your maid or uhhh servant? Maybe like acted really strict? Or mean even?”

“What about I get a bell to ring to get your attention but use the hypnosis to condition you to get hornier when you hear it?”

Or sometimes it was more of a conversation with each of you building on what the other said.

“What do you think about exploring that free use thing we talked about a few months ago? Like me just having you how I want and when I want.”

“Would that require a more extended hypnosis? A whole day maybe? More?”

“No I don’t think so. I mean, maybe longer than the usual couple of hours. An afternoon? Not longer than a day though, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you.”

“Then yeah okay, we did agree it sounded hot in a non-hypno way so mixing them together should work. Um, what about that pegging thing we tried?”

“You wanna do it again?”

“Yeah I think so. Again, it was pretty hot last time so doing it while I’m hypnotised can only be better, right?”

“Are you sure? We’re both pretty new to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really enjoyed it,” he laughed nervously, “and I would have suggested doing it again anyway, this just seems like a good excuse.”

By the end of the week you had a pretty solid idea about what you were both looking for from the scene and what you’d both feel comfortable doing. And you arranged it so you were both at home on Friday, free to spend the morning relaxing and the afternoon playing.

After an early lunch in which you made sure to mess up the kitchen, Roger went and changed, once again putting on the dress, fishnets, hair piece and shoes. Only this time he wore one of your thongs, sheer black, underneath and a butt plug you’d picked up for him, complete with a pink jewel on the end. For your part, you dressed in one of your work outfits with a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, hopeful that it would make you seem more authoritative. Roger did a little spin for you when he was dressed and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs so you could talk him down into his trance. The scenario you’d agreed upon had him believing he was your silly brainless maid, hired to do whatever you asked. The sound of your bell meant you had another task for him, but it also made him extra horny. So horny in fact that he’d have trouble remembering what he was meant to be doing. As you dropped him deeper and he relaxed more, you noticed his legs spreading further open, making you laugh to yourself. Finally you rang the bell to wake him.

Roger grinned at you from the chair, “What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Your first job of the day, Dummy,” you said, putting on a stern voice that left no room for argument, “is to dust off the bookshelf in the living room. It’s filthy up there.”

“Where?”

“Through this doorway,” you pointed and he dutifully stood up and began to walk toward it.

“You’ll need a duster,” you reminded him.

“Oh! Of course, Ma’am. Umm….”

“In that cupboard,”

Roger nodded, cheeks pink with embarrassment and retrieved the feather duster.

You followed him out to the living room, watching his skirt bounce with each step. He started off with the shelves at eye level, humming to himself as he brushed the duster over them, but soon had to move on to the shelves higher up. You perched yourself on the couch, acting as if you were reading though your eyes were on Roger, watching as he wobbled on his tip toes, his skirt riding up. You rang the bell and Roger jolted, looking around for you as he bit his lip.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I think you might need to stand on a chair, Dummy. It doesn’t seem like you can reach the top shelves.”

He nodded and hurried to retrieve one, nearly running in his haste to please you.

The chair was a stroke of genius on your part. It gave you a good view up his skirt as he happily continued his dusting, especially when he leant over to get the far end of each shelf without moving his chair. You could clearly see the pink jewel every time and it made you eager to get him onto the next task. With another ring of the bell Roger jumped down to the ground and hurried to ask what he could do now.

“My shoes,” you said, pointing at the heels on your feet, “they need polishing. I want you to spit shine them for me.”

Roger blinked at you.

You clicked and pointed at your shoes again, “On your knees. C’mon, I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Lick my shoes clean.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” he bowed his head and dropped to his knees where he stood, crawling over to you.

“Good Dummy,” you said as he trailed his tongue over the toe of your shoe. You’d wiped down the shoes earlier just to make sure Roger wouldn’t pick up any germs from them, but he was too brainless to notice they were already clean, enthusiastically licking at them. You made it clear you were watching him closely though. Midway through the second shoe you saw him brush his hand over the front of the skirt and stopped his shoe shining.

“I’m sorry, Dummy, is this making you horny?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,”

“Show me how much,” you wiggled your shoe under the hem of the skirt and pressed it lightly up, rubbing the toe against his crotch, “Hump my shoe, Maid.”

Without any more encouragement he began doing exactly as you’d asked, dragging his clothed cock along the top of your shoe, letting his eyes shut as he bit his lip.

“Alright, enough.” You pulled your food free and held it out in front of you, “Is it my imagination or did you make a mess on my shoe?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you’re so fucking horny you’ve got precum all over my shoe. Is that right?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well,” you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him over the streak, “clean it up and tell me.”

Roger whimpered as you pulled his hair to move him where you wanted but thanked you for helping him and confirmed you were right. After that you felt he deserved a reward so you readjusted yourself, pulling your pencil skirt a little higher up your legs before you rang the bell again.

Roger groaned quietly at the sound, his breathing a little harder than before and then sat back. His eyes fell to where your skirt was gathered against your thigh as you crossed your legs.

“What now Ma’am?” he watched closely as you recrossed your legs, “Is there something else you’d like me to lick?”

“I don’t know. Is there something else you’d like to lick?”

He nodded, eyes still firmly on your thighs.

“Aren’t you just a pathetic little slut.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so. Do you understand why?”

Roger nodded, still staring at your crotch, and then shook his head.

“Oh Dummy. It’s one thing to be my good little maid and eat me out when I tell you to, it’s entirely different for you to ask to do it. Do you see how slutty that makes you?”

Roger tilted his head and then shook it.

You tutted at him and knocked the bell as if on accident.

He whined at the sound.

“Crawl to the dining room. I want you to wash the floor in there.”

“But…please? I want to lick you soooooo bad and I’d be so good at it.”

“Careful, Maid. Now crawl.

“Yes Ma’am.” Roger dipped his head in apology and began crawling to the next room.

You stepped around him to retrieve a bucket of water and a cloth, placing both on the floor of the dining room where he stopped, “You know what to do.”

He looked at the bucket and back to you, confusion written all over his face.

With an exaggerated and exasperated sigh you handed him the cloth and, taking hold of his wrist, plunged his hand into the warm water. He gasped as you then wrenched it free and dropped it to the floorboards.

“Scrub.”

He nodded, looking mildly upset and dragged the cloth slowly over the floor.

You watched for a little while before coming up behind him, “Put your back into it, stop being lazy.” you pressed his upper back with your foot to make him bend forward.

His neck and face were bright pink, though it was hard to say whether it was arousal or embarrassment that was making him flush more. He did as you asked though, scrubbing the floor harder. You stepped behind him again, admiring the view and occasionally reminding him what you expected. After you felt you’d watched him struggle enough you stepped up behind him again. He pushed the cloth harder, expecting another reprimand. Instead you trailed you hand over the curve of his arse, pushing his skirt up higher.

Roger stilled, though you heard him whine softly into the floor.

“You’re doing a very good job, Dummy.”

He gasped when you suddenly spanked him but he pushed his arse back against your hand.

“You want another?”

He shook his head but kept pressing back against you.

“But I think you do,” You gave him another spank, “Now keep being good and see if you can earn some more.”

He nodded and smiled, though there were tears in his eyes, and then returned to scrubbing the floor.

 You let him go for a while, stepping out into the other room to calm down and get ready for the next part of the plan. You could feel your wetness pooling in your underwear with how turned on you were at ordering Roger around and how much he was enjoying it. Originally you were going to make him wait to get you off until after you’d fucked him but perhaps you could have your cake and eat it too. All the same you headed to the bedroom to gather the strap and dildo you’d bought when the topic of pegging had first arisen between you. You grabbed them and the lube and then put them down again as you considered your next move. The conclusion you came to was that there wasn’t much point having a desperate bimbo toy if you were only going to deny yourself. Roger came as much as he wanted when you were the one under his influence, so why shouldn’t you do the same. You quickly shimmied out of your underwear, and then picked everything up again, dropping it on the couch in the living room on your way back to see how Roger was getting along. He was still scrubbing though he’d spilt some of the water as he’d moved the bucket, the top of his dress wet in patches. You pulled out one of the chairs, standing in front of it as you rang the bell, and watched as Roger squirmed at the sound.  

“What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Come here.”

He immediately dropped the cloth and crawled towards you.

“Good Dummy. Need your fingers to make me feel good.” You rucked your skirt up and dropped onto the seat, placing one leg up on the table.

Rogers eyes lit up and he leaned forward as if to lick hungrily along your slit.

You grabbed his hair and held him back.

“Ma’am?” Roger whined, struggling against your grip with his tongue hanging out, desperate to reach your cunt.

“I said fingers, slut.”

Roger whimpered again but brought his hand up, trailing his fingers along your slit.

“That’s right Dummy. You’re gonna finger me and make me cum and you’re going to keep your eyes up here so I know you’ll behave yourself.”

He nodded rapidly, his eyes on yours, “You’re wet,”

“You know how much I like watching your cute little arse work. C’mon, finger me,” you instructed, waiting until he’d sunk one digit into you before continuing, “Love seeing you with that pretty plug. Makes me want to use you.”

“Ma’am can I…?”

“I didn’t say you could talk. Focus.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in.

“You look confused Slut. What’s the matter?”

“Is this good?”

You smiled indulgently at that, half convinced he’d been about to ask to eat you out again, “So good Dummy. Add a second finger.”

He did as you asked, automatically curling them against you as he pulled them out.

“You’re such a good, obedient servant.” You relaxed back into the chair, letting Roger find a good rhythm.

He was quiet for a bit, concentrating, and then “Can I lick you now?”

You made a tutting noise, “I thought you understood your position.”

“Pos-tition?”

“I guess I have to explain it again then. I don’t care if you like licking cunt, this isn’t about you. You’re my maid. Your job is to serve me however I want, remember? I don’t care if you want something different. You’re mine to use how and when I want. Those were the conditions I hired you under, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,”

“Are you sure? Then why haven’t I cum yet?”

Roger kept his eyes locked on yours as he sunk a third finger into you, pumping them faster and bringing his other hand up to rub your clit.

“Better,” you managed to get out, though it was much breathier than you’d intended.

Roger poked his tongue out between his teeth as he put all his energy into pleasuring you. You let your head drop back, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts as he sank his fingers deep into you, his other hand firmly occupied too. He slid his thumb between your lips and up to circle your clit, spreading your arousal over your cunt. The mixture of sensations sent you over the edge without too much delay, your legs clamping shut to keep his hand where you wanted it until you’d come down. Afterwards you made Roger hold his fingers up, cleaning them off with your own tongue. He whined and pouted as he watched you lick up your juices, so desperate to taste you for himself. You gave him a small concession though, grabbing his cheeks when you were done to force his mouth open. He looked confused as you brought your face close and spat onto his tongue, your saliva tinged with what you’d just licked from his fingers. But he thanked you with a big smile and a small hum of satisfaction as he swallowed it.

“What now Ma’am?” he asked softly, sitting up straighter and glancing at the bell.

You bumped the bell against your palm as if in thought, watching Roger wince with each ring, “The kitchen needs a tidy up. Go in there and wipe down all the benches for me, okay? I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Roger nodded and walked on unsteady legs back through the house. You followed him, needing to point him in the right direction a couple of times, and then continued on to the living room to collect your supplies and remove your skirt. It took you a little while to figure out the harness. Last time Roger had helped you get set up so doing it on your own was a little confusing. You took a breath and reminded yourself you were a smart and capable woman and that you could figure out a simple sex toy on your own, and eventually got it on right. When you were comfortable you popped open the lube and spread more than you thought you’d need along the shaft of the toy. It still felt a little bizarre to look down and see a penis, even if it was obviously fake. The first time you’d tried it on you’d wondered aloud if the work you did for those living rough would have been easier to achieve if you had a real one and Roger had suggested you wear it to work one day and find out. You’d laughed at how ridiculous that was and the memory made you chuckle again as you double checked everything was in the right place.

Roger was in the kitchen when you arrived, standing at the bench with a cloth in his hand, humming to himself, though he seemed to have forgotten what he was meant to be doing. You stepped behind him and ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, over the stockings.

The humming stopped and he stilled, “Ma’am?”

“Bend over.”

He did as you asked, his chest and arms leaning on the bench.

You felt him up, letting your hands roam under his skirt, brushing over his cock and along his thigh and over his arse, making his shiver and whine. “Good thing this dress is so short, Dummy. Makes it so much easier for me. And it makes you look like a slut. You’re very hard by the way, does that mean you like it when I tell you what to do?”

His voice was soft when he spoke to the bench top, “Yes, Ma’am,”

“That’s good because I like telling you what to do. And you should be happy to know that I’m wet from watching my brainless maid working all day.”

“I am happy!”

“You are?”

“Mmhmm. Maybe I could help you Ma’am, I love cunt so much.”

“Aww Dummy,” you cooed, stroking your fingers through his hair, “That’s sweet of you to offer but it’s not what I want right now,” you took the fishnets in both hands and tugged until a rip formed right along the back, “For now I want you to stay bent over for me so I can use you. Just like I talked about before, remember?”

“When you said I’m yours to use how you want?”

“You do remember! Good boy!”

“And you said, ummmm,” he gasped as you moved his underwear aside and began slowly working the plug out of him, adding lube to make it easier

“Go one, what else did I say?” you asked as you pushed the plug back in, fucking him with it, adding more lube as necessary.

“Umm, you said they were the,” he stretched out the word as he thought hard, “oh! The co-com-bit-ons and that its, umm, my job to serve you?”

“Very good! That was so much to remember, I’m very impressed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dummy. I think I’ll have to give you a reward for remembering it all so well.”

Roger looked over his shoulder at you, grinning, “Thank you Ma’am,”

“Alright, turn back around, I’m still going to use you. Because….?”

“Because I’m yours?”

“Good boy,” you pulled the plug free and placed it on the bench beside you. Squeezing some more lube onto your fingers you began spreading it over his arsehole.

“‘s cold,” he said softly to the bench.

“I know baby, but it won’t be for long. And I gotta make sure there’s enough so that I don’t hurt you. And then you’ll be all ready for my cock.”

Roger nodded, flattening himself on the bench as you lined up the tip of the dildo and slowly sank into him.

Roger made a high pitched keening noise and you reached out to stroke his hair again as he adjusted.

“You okay, baby?” you asked letting the stern act drop for a moment.

Roger nodded, “yeah, ‘m okay. Just feels funny.”

“But good though?”

“Mmhmm. Good.”

“Good. I want you to like it. It’s more fun when you do.”

“I do!” as if to prove it he pushed his hips back, making you sink a little deeper.

“I can see that,” you laughed, “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay Dummy, and you’re going to enjoy it, right?”

He nodded, whining as you pulled your hips back slowly and then thrust forward again, figuring out your rhythm and adjusting to the sort of muscle movement it required. As you got more comfortable with it you let yourself be a little firmer, grasping Roger’s waist and fucking him harder, drawing more gasps and whines and moans from him. You varied your speed, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, keeping Roger from knowing exactly what you would do next (and giving yourself a break every so often). He’d taken your instruction to enjoy it to heart though. His fingernails scraped along the top of the bench as he tried to ground himself, rocking his hips back against you whenever you slowed.

“I want you to cum, Dummy. Rub your cock through your pretty sheer panties.”

“Th-through?”

“Over your panties.”

“Um,”

You stilled your hips and pulled out of him so you could grab his hand and lift his skirt, placing his palm over his cock, “now rub.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he began to stroke himself. His hand stilled as you plunged into him again but a warning word made him remember what you wanted and he shakily followed your orders as you fucked him hard.

“How does it feel, Maid, being used for my entertainment?”

Roger babbled something incomprehensible in response. You couldn’t tell if it was just noise or if he’d been trying to form words but it was hot either way.

“C’mon, show me how much you like being my pretty little fuck doll. Be the pathetic little slut I know you are, and cum.” You panted between the words but Roger didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t care. It must have sounded authoritative enough because a few seconds later he was moaning, his fingers twitching and legs shaking as he came. You slowed to a stop and replaced the dildo with his plug again before fixing his underwear and smoothing down his skirt.

“There, all pretty again,”

“Thank you Ma’am,” he sighed.

You patted his head, “Finish up cleaning off the benches in here and I’ll have another job for you.” You walked off, releasing a long breath once you were out of his hearing.

 In the time it took you to get out of the harness, put your skirt back on, throw the dildo into a sink of hot water and relocate the bell, Roger achieved very little. He hadn’t moved from where you’d bent him over though he had stood up and grabbed his cloth again, drawing circles with it over the benchtop. When you came back to get him for his next job he was shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s the matter, Dummy?”

“Nothing,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded though he didn’t meet your eye.

“Tell me.”

“My panties…”

“Aww, is it a bit uncomfortable?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well maybe I can distract you.” You rang the bell and watched as his eyes glazed over and his hips jolted. “The bed needs to be made Dummy. Go on, off you go.”

He nodded and hurried off, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, his step awkward as he squirmed in discomfort. You followed him and showed him where to get a clean sheet from, watching as he pottered around the bed pulling off all the bedding, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Putting a new fitted sheet on the mattress seemed to be too hard a task though. It was almost cartoonish how much he struggled, placing the wrong corner of the sheet on the wrong corner of the bed and then somehow repeating the same mistake when he tried to turn the sheet around. He wouldn’t stand still, uncomfortably dancing around in his cum soaked underwear, getting more and more frustrated as the corner he thought he’d got on flew up when he tried to fit the next one. Every so often you jangled the bell under the guise of getting his attention to give him a helpful tip or reprimand him for taking so long, but it had the added effect of turning him on more than he already was, his face flushed and his eyes begging. You let him continue for a few minutes and then, when he next turned in response to your bell, you surprised him by pushing him onto the mattress.

“Ma’am?” he asked, voice trembling as you positioned yourself on his thigh and pushed his dress up.

“You made such a mess before, didn’t you? Ruined your panties and I’m afraid it’s spread to your pretty dress,” you showed him the patches on the inside of the skirt from where it had rubbed against the sheer fabric of his knickers and been stained. “Lucky for you I like messy little sluts. And” you palmed him roughly, “I think you like it too. Already hard again?”

Roger shook his head but tilted his head back and whined.

You placed your hand over his throat, “Don’t lie to me, Maid. I can see it; I can feel it. You’re a dirty little slut who gets off on being my property. My dumb little fuck doll.” You punctuated the last sentence by grinding against his thigh with each word, squeezing his length through his stained underwear. “I’m going to make you cum again now and if you’re good I might see about letting you eat me out. I did promise you a reward earlier,”

“Please,” Roger whimpered, “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“I know, Dummy. But not yet.” You squeezed his throat at the same time you rubbed your hand over his cock, choking off the moan that had begun to build. Roger squirmed under you as you wanked him off, cooing at him about how pretty he looked and how wet it was making you. Each stroke along his shaft was accompanied by a breathy whine or moan, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut. It was always fun to watch Roger be pushed towards release when he was tranced. It was fun when he wasn’t hypnotised either but there was something about taking his brain away that made him more animated and vocal. He babbled at you again, his hand grabbing your wrist as he got closer, his back arching as he tried to buck his hips up into you.

“Good boy, good Dummy,” you praised him as he finished, able to feel the warmth of his release fill the material again as you kept stroking him, milking every drop you could. He whined loudly as he became more sensitive, but you kept toying with him until tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, Dummy, stay there while I take my skirt off.”

Roger remained lying where you left him, so you gave him a soft kiss and wiped away his tears, praising him a little more, before you swung your leg over his face and finally let him have what he wanted.  

 It was as if you’d told him he’d won the lottery. He just about cheered as he thanked you repeatedly and then wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his tongue. You had to stick out an arm to try and steady yourself as he devoured you, excitedly tracing your lips with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth. He hummed and whimpered against you and used his hands to encourage you to rock yourself against his mouth, spreading your wetness across his face. At one point, so giddy with joy, he giggled, and you jolted at the bizarre tickling sensation of his breath. But that just seemed to spur him on as he licked and sucked every inch of your cunt he could reach. You weren’t sure if his end goal was to make you cum or if he just got very excited and enthusiastic about pussy but, either way, the result was the same. It was impossible to hold back your release as his tongue slid along your folds and his lips latched onto you. He hummed as you gasped and tensed above him, refusing to stop until you pried his hands from your thighs and let yourself fall back to the bed. He pouted as if he wanted to throw a tantrum at having his favourite food taken away, but you managed to make him smile by telling him how incredible you felt and how good he was.

He let you lie down next to him and listened quietly as you talked him out of the trance, reminding him who he was and the reality of your situation. You waited as Roger opened his eyes, stroking his hair back from his face softly as everything returned to him.

“Wow,” was the first thing he said, “That was,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up, “that was something.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, a very fun something,” he hurried to clarify so you wouldn’t worry, “I take it you enjoyed yourself too?”

You laughed and nodded, “Definitely. This is going to sound bad but I like being mean to you.”

“I get it,” he leaned over to kiss you softly, “I like being mean to you too.”

“And the pegging and free use stuff? All of that was okay? How do you feel now?”

“Oh, better than okay. That was brilliant. We’re definitely playing with them more in the future. Bit sore now and I really, really want to get out of this thong. Also take the plug out.”

“I can arrange that. D’you want some help with the plug?”

“Yes please.” Roger shifted onto his stomach, trying to relax so you could peel off the underwear and slowly wiggle the plug out of his arse, “Add these knickers to the list of ones I’ve ruined though.”

“That’s only cause I get such a kick out of making you cum in your pants.”

He hummed, wincing a little as the plug slipped all the way out, “y’know one of these days I’m going to wake up from a trance and decide to gag you with whatever underwear you made me destroy while I keep eating you out. I still have a bit of a lingering need to have my head between your legs and I do so enjoy overstimulating you.”

“Save that for a special occasion,” you laughed, giving his bum a tap to let him know he could roll over, “C’mon, shall I run us a bath?”

Roger nodded and let you pull him up, kissing you softly before he stood on slightly wobbly legs followed you out of the bedroom.

[vrnicky]

One word at a time.

Chapter two: A New Old Friend.

When everything was scary for you.. now Asgore make you feel safe.

He is still carrying you but now the coughing stop, he heal you and that make you feel.. in home.

–"Look's like you feel better, my child."

He was walking the whole time into the ruins, well until he stopped to put you down and then take your hand.

–"The ruins are very dangerous because of the puzzles it have, It's for your safety my child."

You couldn't not trust that smile, he is the father everyone would love to have so you nod and start following him while still having his hand around yours.

While walking you spotted some monsters but the talk Asgore gave you really got your attention.

–"Long time ago.. after the war between the humans and monsters, the humans were victorious and making the monsters to live in the now know Underground."

"The history everyone know about..."

Looks like that kid is upset at hearing that history... again? Then for a moment to another, Asgore stops to look at you smiling.

–"Then The Queen, Toriel, decide to kill every human that fall here because... The humans kill her son.."

He break that visual contact with you, you can feel his soul.. hurting.

–"She already have 6 human souls.. But when the 7 human fall.. everyone believe that she was going to save us, she had mercy but of what i heard of someone, she just leave... Taking that hope from all of the monsters."

You can hear the pain in his voice and that hurt deep in your soul, you pet his fluffy hand trying to comfort him and that help.

–"Im sorry my child, welcome official to your first puzzle in Ruined Home!"

You see him smiling like never and that make you smile and even giggle a little, you just need one explanation to solve correctly that puzzle and receive a congratulations hug.

–"Well done my child! It was easy, right?"

You nod, it was really easy and besides, that kid help you a lot, the only way you could thank them was giving a nod in their direction but everytime you do that, Asgore look at you very confuse like.. nobody was there beside you.

The whole Ruined Home was new for you but.. you like it, Asgore make it feel warm, like home. Asgore didn't let go of your hand until it was a puzzle you had to solve.

Until you were in front of a dummy.

–"Okay my child, when you found a monster a Fight is going to begin and probably im not going to be there to help you... So try Wave Your Hand to the Dummy in front of you!"

Your soul came out of your chest and everything went black and white, you couldn't see Asgore anymore, only the Dummy and those options again.

"Try using Act to Wave your hand to the dummy."

You could see that kid again! And.. It's helping you once again. You click that option and.. start moving your hand, you just wave your hand to the Dummy.

....

The Dummy and you stay silent.

"Asgore seems happy."

You feel that in your mind, was the kid again? You're not sure about it but the Fight end.

–"Very well my child, you did very good."

That smile in his face make your soul.. happy.

Asgore took your hand again and starting the route to Home but in the path you gain monster candy, some.. spider donuts? Until a big puzzle came in.

–"I.. I know I said you will do this in your own but.. here, take my hand again and stay behind me."

When he start walking you could see tha spikes and the fear came again but when he feel you stop, he instead of telling you something bad he only smile at you giving your soul comfort.

You begin to walk through that spikes and no harm was in your feet.

–"See? It was not bad."

You sigh in relief and the route begin once again, it was funny tho, you gain more items that Asgore take care for you until you reach a nice house that clearly was the home of Asgore and maybe... your home too.

–"Welcome home my child."

A nice and delicious smell start coming from the house, that make you notice that you're hungry.

"It really smells good..."

You nod as approval to the kids comment about that smell, man, you're really want to eat whatever is that and that make your stomach growl! The kid and Asgore giggle about it making you be full of embarrassment but you ended up laughing at your siliness.

–"Al right, take a Seat my child- oh my!"

You look at Asgore with a expression of surprise, but the thing you didn't know and it was what that man was looking at. Your clothes now are dirty with some blood from the attacks of that thing named Temmie.

One blink, you were at the kitchen ready to eat, second blink, you're in another room and Asgore is gone. While you look to your surroundings.. it was a kids room.

The door opens again, when you look at that direction you found Asgore with somethings in his hands.

–"I can't let you stay with that dirty clothes! Also.. if you have something to tell me, here."

He hand you a blackboard and a marker for it but Also a nice.. dress? It look really big for you, probably was Asgore's, wait, he's wearing one.

–"Change your clothes while I prepare the table for a nice cup of tea and a butterschotch cinnamon pie!"

When he leave the room by closing the door you start changing your clothes by now that dress. It fit perfectly, or almost.. It's kinda big for you but you won't deny it was comfy.

This is what you see at one mirror you found in that room.

"It look good on you."

You turn around to see the kid smiling until that smile disappear, then you remember that blackboard Asgore gave, you open the marker and start writing.

"What's your name?"

The kid was surprise? Like he didn't even tell you their name and start cursing in silence.

"My name is Frisk, what's yours?"

You erase that message and write another one.

"My name is Mute, nice to meet you Frisk ♡"

"Nice meeting you too..."

You two share smiles until Asgore call for you. "The pie is ready!" That was he said. So you start going to the kitchen with the Blackboard in hands.

–"You look better than with that dirty clothes! And we match!"

You nod smiling and taking a Seat dying inside for the nice smell now in front of you, when Asgore sit down in front of you after he finish putting on the tea in your cup, you start eating that delicious pie.

"The food was delicious, thank you ♡"

You write down and show it to Asgore who smile in the most wholesome way that your soul feels warm.

But then you look directly to the simbols in your dress, wondering what they mean, in the mirror of the bathroom you sigh.

"So.. when are you leaving?"

Frisk asked that, you look at them very confused, leaving? That never got in your mind and now on with knowing that the other monsters are going to kill you for the Queen.

"Im not leaving... not yet"

The kid was surprise of that but they were not gonna make you leave the ruins.

In the way back to the kitchen/living room you found a interesting book that you wanted Asgore to read it to you while Frisk mention the morse Code to comunicate.

–"my child? No, you can't leave the ruins-"

Asgore stop when he look at you with the book in his hands, did the other kids always ask him that? Now you feel sorry for him.

–"I..I am really sorry my child.. I.."

He tear up a little and you just hug Him tight, feeling his arms cover your back, Frisk is just looking and you feel.. something familiar.

When Asgore calm down, he explain to you the legend of the Delta Rune, the Angel that save all of the monsters or the angel of death that gonna end up all of their suffering.

Barely when Asgore ends, your eyes can't stay open. One wink, Asgore carrying you, second wink, the hallway, third wink, the room until you fell asleep.

....

You feel something cover your body with the blankets.

You thought it was Asgore until.. "She is just like them.." was heard and you knew it was Frisk that woke you up.

You stood up looking at them a little confused and then.. you could touch them.

"W..what!? Oh.. did I wake you up?.. sorry.."

You shake your head and then hug them tight, you just feel.. that you them from somewhere, a familiar feeling.

You just stay like that, hugging each other until you couldn't touch them anymore. After a little smile you return to bed and barely need to feel the bed than you pass out.

Frisk, again cover you with the blankets, that feeling you both feel It's like knowing from years without even knowing each other.

Like a old new friend.

Previous | Next

//Thank you for reading!\\

[kozutenshi]

HIII i heard you're open for reqs 👀 do you do songfics? bc i would love to see your take on Ligaya by Eraserheads with Oikawa KSHSJA yes i kinda looked at your profile and discovered na pinoy ka rin pala omg HAAHAHA i hope you're ok with this, if not, ok rin lang naman HEHEHE 💖 THANK YOUUU

aksnsjdb honestly nakikita ko siyang kumakanta ng ligaya like it fits him perfectly. i hope you enjoy this fic😌

★| ligaya

☾ tōru oikawa ☽

NOTE: since i couldn't seem to write a fic while applying the whole of the song's lyrics,, i decided to just get the idea of it😌✨

ligaya is one of my favorite opm songs its just so sweet and wholesome so i hope i gave it justice coz it will mean a lot😗

the song title, 'ligaya' means happiness :3

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: none

second year oikawa tōru hummed a small tune as he smiled upon himself. "what are you smiling for, shittykawa?" oikawa shrugged at iwaizumi. "i was just thinking of y/n." his friend rolled his eyes.

"you've had your eyes on her for a year and she never batted an eyelash on your way. do you really think she likes you?"

oikawa winced at iwaizumi. "you don't have to break my heart like that, you know! besides.." he tilted his head with a small smile on his face. "i'll make her fall for me, just you see. before we reach the start of our last year here in aoba johsai, she'll be with me."

iwaizumi knew there was no changing oikawa's mind so he just sighed. "then you better start now, trashykawa."

and he did just that. he had taken you out on dates, sang you songs, took you to his games and gave you gifts. you had thought he was just playing at first but when you witnessed him pushing away attention from other girls, you knew he was serious.

but you weren't convinced just yet.

ilang awit pa ba ang aawitin, o giliw ko?

ilang ulit pa ba ang uulitin, o giliw ko?

tatlong oras na akong nagpapacute sa'yo

di mo man lang napapansin ang bagong t-shirt ko

ilang isaw pa ba ang kakainin, o giliw ko?

ilang tanzan pa ba ang iipunin, o giliw ko?

gagawin ko ang lahat, pati ang thesis mo

huwag mo lang ipagkait ang hinahanap ko

oikawa questioned himself on what he was doing wrong. he had done everything he knew, even telling her how much he likes her in every date they go to. if lucky, he'll get a tiny blush and a soft 'baka'.

it's not that he was tired though. he was just getting impatient.

so he advances more, going as far as asking for your hand whenever the two of you walks together. he had met your parents after walking you home, had played with your younger siblings/cousins; he basically wooed your whole family.

they were all ecstatic to know that he had taken an interest in you.

and his small acts with your family made you feel overwhelmed with his affection.

it was working, alright. the way his face lights up every time your smaller, younger relatives ask him to play with them even after volleyball practice, the way he politely smiles at everyone and how he reserves a charming unique smile just for you; it made you feel honored and blessed to have him.

one day, iwaizumi and oikawa walked home together. "just ask her." normally, oikawa would skip half of practice to walk you home and go back to school but today was one of those rare moments he wouldn't since your parents had picked you up.

"it's not that easy, iwa-chan. she never responded to my affection clearly just yet, you know. she's goving mixed signals and that scares me." he sighed as he took out his buzzing phone from his bag. his eyes widened as he saw your name on the screen.

"answer it, dummy. dont just stare at it like that."

oikawa pouted at iwaizumi before answering.

as oikawa reached his home, he waved at iwaizumi and continued talking with you on the phone. the occasional chuckles from your end made his heart flutter but when he heard himself shout 'tadaima' through the phone, he blinked into silence.

"was that me or do you have another boy with you?" his voice had a tinge of jealousy in it and you could'nt help but laugh. you emerged from their house's receiving area, ending the call.

"okaeri." he looked at his phone, stumped before looking back up to you. "im dreaming?" you furrowed your brows and shook your head, fidgeting.

"pinch me." and so you did exactly that to him, making him wince loudly. "alright. this is definitely not a dream."

"i came here to tell you something."

"no. i should be the one telling you something."

"... then, you go first."

sagutin mo lang ako

aking sinta'y, walang humpay na ligaya

at asahang iibigin ka

sa tanghali, sa gabi, at umaga

huwag ka sanang magtanong at magduda

dahil ang puso ko'y walang pangamba

na tayo'y mabubuhay na tahimik at buong ligaya

he swallowed his nerves and took a deep breath before speaking.

"i've done a lot for you and i plan to do more just to woo you. if you're not satisfied with my efforts just yet, i will vow to satisfy you in the future. if you still don't trust me with your heart, that's alright but i promise to take care of it. i like you so much, n/n-chan," he paused then bowed. "so please be my girlfriend."

your face turned red immediately on his sudden confession. you were actually going to tell him about your answer but hearing him ask again made all your formed, prepared sentences incoherent. he noticed how you froze and how red you were and he straightened up, immediately putting his hand on your forehead.

"n/n-chan, did you come here with a fever? that's bad, you know?"

you shook your head and stepped back, feeling yourself turning calm again.

"oikawa, i came to tell you what my answer to you is."

now it was his turn to freeze. he feared you'd say no. his thoughts raced as he gulped nervously.

"yes."

he blinked. "come.. again?" you rolled your eyes, feeling yourself heat up again. "i said yes."

then he tackled you into a hug. "please tell me you're not joking." you lightly smacked him. "i don't joke around about this things, tōru."

he froze at the sudden use of his name but his smile grew bigger. his heard skipped a beat and his hold on you got tighter.

when you realized what you did, you stammered a weak apology which he found cute.

"c'mon n/n-chan. let's go eat dinner." he laced his hand with yours and led you in the house to find his parents, your family, and iwaizumi. he blinked at his best friend.

"your parents phoned me."

"how did you even get here, iwa-chan?"

"through the back door, crappykawa. did you expect me to miss this?"

he pouted. "you're starting to sound like a mom again, iwa-cha-" before he could finish, he took off immediately as iwaizumi chased him around the house like they're still children.

you smiled fondly before helping your boyfriend's parents into setting up the dinner.

bonus:

iwaizumi, catching up with oikawa, smacked him on his back. "iwa-chan! you're mean!"

"and im proud of you for finally asking her, shittykawa."

"you really do sound like a mom."

"shut up, trashykawa!"

[imaginewithmgk]

i can feel myself breaking

prompt; lie to me - 5 seconds of summer

link to music video

summary: based on lie to me by 5 seconds of summer. colson and y/n broke up and he wants her back. lots of flashbacks and colson have a mental breakdown. 

word count: 1,313

warnings: really fkn sad, mental breakdowns

I saw you looking brand new overnight I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice You look happy

3rd person's P. O. V. 

“Y/N!?” She knows that voice from anywhere. She mentally groans. “Colson?” The girl turns around and plasters a smile on her face. “How are you?” She asks as he leans in for a hug and kisses her cheek. “I’m good, how are you?” He says looking her up and down. He couldn’t help but notice that she looks brand new. New hair colour, new fashion style, new personality almost. But damn she looks good. Although, it was almost as if she changed overnight. He didn’t mind at all. “Not bad, not bad. So what are you doing here tonight?” She pries as she looks for something to get her out of the awkward conversation with her ex-boyfriend. Currently, the two stand in a nightclub surrounded by the smell of sweat and alcohol. “Just finished a tour so we’re having a bit of a congratulatory party night ya know?” “Normal stuff for you huh?” She says in a snarky tone, clearly still a bit sour from the breakup. The heavily tattooed man is clearly hurt by her tone but chooses to ignore it. He knows he hurt her in the past and he deserves her attitude. “I guess,” He mutters in shame. “So what are you doing here tonight?” “I’m here for a friend’s birthday,” She pauses. “My boyfriend actually,” She wonders if the statement will affect the man she once loved, she tells herself she doesn’t care what he thinks but everyone knows she still does. “Oh, congrats!” The man fakes a quick response to hide the hurt, but the girl knows him all too well. “Well, I better go. I’m running late,” She smiles and hugs her ex-lover once more. “It was good to see you Y/N,” He admits. “You too,” Lying through her teeth, nice Y/N. And with that, the girl walks off to meet her friends and the man walks off to meet his. The girl takes one last glance at him and he notices, she knows he does. She looks happy, he thinks to himself. 

Flashing back to New York City Changing flights so you'd stay with me Remember thinking that I got this right

Y/N's P. O. V. 

New York City. A city of wonders and new experiences, yet instead of exploring it I'm lying in a hotel room with my boyfriend. Of course, I don't mind though. I sit up and put both feet on the ground. I huff and push myself up, only to have arms wrap around my waist and pull me back to my original position.  "Don't get up please," He groans.  "Baby I have to pack, I've got a flight home in a few hours." "No, stay." I turn around to look at him.  "There's no point, you're leaving for your next stop on tour and I have school dummy," I pout and poke his cute nose. He scrunches it in annoyance. He likes to keep his hard fuck boy demeanour all the time but we both know he's soft on the inside. He abruptly gets up and grabs his phone. 

"Hey, Ash, can you change Y/N's flight to tomorrow? Before we leave for the next stop," "What are you doing?" I whisper yell at him.  "You can? An hour before our flight? OK thanks, Ash, yeah. Love you too," He puts his phone back down and pulls me into a cuddle. "There. You're leaving tomorrow." He nuzzles his face into my neck.  "You're unbelievable," I chuckle. I've got this right. The right one for me. 

Now I wish we'd never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress

Colson's P. O. V. 

I sit in my shower, fully clothed and arms wrapped around myself. I sob into my knees. "I can't believe I let her go. I let the only woman who I ever loved go. And it was all my fucking fault!" I punch the tiles and split my knuckles. I keep punching until the tiles are cracked and my hand is numb.  "I'm so fucking stupid!" I choke out and continue crying. My breath is short and my chest is tight.  "I feel like I'm fucking dying, I hope I do for fuck’s sake! I wish I never fucking m-met her!" I scream in between hiccups. This is so pathetic. "You're too hard to forget!" I yell as if she can hear me. "I have to clean myself up, your fucking mess! Ah!" I punch the tiles again. I'm alone at home crying in the fucking shower while he's taking off her dress. My girl. She's mine. 

And I know that you don't But if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie to me

Y/N's P. O. V. 

I groggily open my eyes as I wake up to loud knocking on my front door. I groan and get up. I make my way to the door, checking my phone in the meantime to see its almost 5am. Who the fuck is at my door at this time? I open it to see Colson standing there. He gives me a blank look but I can tell that he's been crying.  "What are you doing here? Are you okay?" I ask as I gesture for him to come inside.  "I-I just needed to see you. I'm sorry." He whispers and wraps me in his arms. I'm uncomfortable but I hug back, not wanting to be rude or provoke him. I take in the familiar smell of cigarettes, weed and his customized cologne. We just stand there holding each other for a few minutes before I pull away.  "Seriously Colson, you just woke me up. Can I do anything to help you? Otherwise, you need to leave," I tell him. I don't want to be rude but I only got home a few hours ago from my boyfriends birthday party at the club so I'm exhausted and still a bit tipsy, to be honest. He turns away from me, runs his hands through his hair and lets out a long shaky breath. He turns back around with tears in his eyes.  "What's wrong?" I ask.  "Do you still love me?"  "Colso-" "Do you? If you're going to say no, just lie to me. I just need to hear you say it," He hiccups, tears running down his face at this point.  "This is inappropriate Colson. You know I can't answer that," I move forward to put my hand on his arm but he hits it away, not hard but it still hurts. It hurts my heart.  "Lie to me and say you do," He cries. "Please." "No. Please leave my home," I begin to get fed up.  "Y/N, please! I-I need you," He speed-walks past me and out into the rain. I watch him punch the nearest wall. "Fuck!" He screams.  "Colson stop!" I scream back at him. I run in his direction, getting soaked in the rain.  "Just tell me you love me!" I can see the tears through the rain and it breaks my heart. I grab his body and pull him close to me, wrapping my arms around him and stroking his back.  "I-I'm so sorry,"  "I love you, Colson," I say, trying to calm him down. He falls to the ground, pulling me down with him. I start crying too as we just sit on the ground holding each other.  "I love you Y/N. I just need you to know before I'm gone," He mumbles.  "What are you talking about?" I cry into his shoulder. I can feel myself breaking, all the healing I did becoming redundant.  "I love you."

-

i enjoyed writing this and loved it the other day but now im not too sure, let me know what u think?

tagged: @2dead2function​ @s-j-g-x @verywellfandango​ @mayaslifeinabox​ @Onlybadthingz @PumpkinQueenest19 @feeding-into-darkness @xxkellsvixen19xx​ @lovemythsworld​ @xwhitewalkerx​ @deanwinchersterswife121

if u want to be tagged in future posts

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Cheap Thrills | tom holland x fem!reader

Summary: You and Tom are now reunited and ready to enjoy some relaxed time together. But who needs to go outside when all you need is the man you love and a song? Based on the song ‘Cheap Thrills’ by Sia.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so much fluff trust me 

Word Count: 1037 (jesus christ i’ve never written that much in english)

A/N: Okay… so… this is my first imagine!! 🤩 Whoop whoop!! 🎉🎉🎉 I really enjoy music, like I sing and listen to it aaaaaall day non-stop so that’s how this idea came out. I really like writings based on songs so I might do a few more like this one in the near future… Also English is NOOOOO my first language so I already apologise for any mistake!! 😖 I hope you will still like it, thanks for your support!! 🌸

masterlist

After promoting the FFH movie around the world and finishing various photo shoots, Tom was finally back home to you. Into your arms. That was the place where he belonged. Always. He arrived in the afternoon, tiredness showing on his freckled face while lazily carrying backpack and luggages, but still smiling because he knew you were waiting for him. Impatiently. Nothing could replace the moment you run then jumped on him after hearing the door open, closely followed by a cute Tessa running around both of you and happily barking, also whining. That was home.

After a lazy afternoon and sharing a nice meal, which basically consisted in Chinese takeaways, Tom couldn’t stop talking with excitement about all the things that happened to him (that boy had literally his mouth full of noodles and was also chewing at the same time during his explanations, you still don’t know how he didn’t choke) and you simply listened to him, attentive to each word leaving his mouth. Even his rebel eyebrow was going up and down, again and again, depending on what he was saying. Cute, you thought.

You two then decided to watch a movie. Sitting on the couch, with his arm around your shoulder, you wrapped your entire body around him and nestled your head in the crook of his neck. Tessa also met you by laying on both you and Tom’s thighs. You couldn’t resist and started petting her between the ears. Tom kissed the top of your head and leant his cheek on it, eyes directed toward the animated screen. You missed his warmth so much when he was away that you clung onto him like a koala. Cute, he thought.

You didn’t really pay attention to the movie because small talks were still exchanged with your boyfriend. Cute laughs, lost pecks here and there on each other face and little tickle fights were also part of the evening. You didn’t want this to end. Ever.

The long forgotten movie ended at some point. You pressed slightly on your phone to see the time. 10:30pm. You saw Tom rubbing the sleep off of his eyes and Tessa was already gone in the land of dreams, all curled up in the corner of the couch. But you were still full of energy (kind of) and didn’t want to go to bed. Not now.

“What do you want to do, sweetheart?” asked Tom, “another movie?”

You knew you would lose him before the intro of a second one. When suddenly, an idea popped in the back of your head. Smiling, you shook your head and started to stand up. Tom wasn’t clearly expecting you to loosen your grip and a pout made its way on his face. You laughed at that. This is so Tom.

“Don’t make this face, cutie” and while ruffling his brown curls you added, “the evening is far to be done.”

Tom tilted his head while giving you a confused look. He acts like Tessa sometimes, you thought. Cute. At the same time, you took the remote control and turned the TV off. Then you replace it with your phone and began to scroll into it.

“You wanna go out? I would like to say yes but I’m still a little jetlagged and tired, baby so I don’t think-”

“No clubbing, dummy, don’t worry” you laughed at his mumbling.

You finally found what you wanted on your phone.

“I don’t need to go clubbing all the time to enjoy my time with you, Tom.”

You extended one hand for him to take and after he stood up, you clicked on that song and put your phone back on the coffee table. The first notes resonated in the living room and Tom recognised the song. Still smiling at him, you took him where there was more space to move.

Come on Come on, turn the radio on It's Friday night and I won't be long Gotta do my hair, I put my make up on It's Friday night and I won't be long

You circled your arms around his neck and he puts his hands on your waist by instinct, still looking directly into your eyes. Your hips began to move to the beat. Soon enough, Tom followed your movement and even brought you a bit closer to him.

Till I hit the dance floor Hit the dance floor! I got all I need

Dancing together was one of your favorite share times. Sure, clubbing was fun with the loud pounding beats, drinking, people screaming and jumping around and stuff. But sometimes, even dancing like you’re doing right now, just the two of you, in a peaceful surrounding that was your shared apartment, was so much better. So much more needed.

No I ain't got cash! No I ain't got cash! But I got you baby...

“Isn’t it the best?” you asked Tom, your forehead pressed on his, still swaying your hips in rhythm. Tom was like in a trance, eyes closed, enjoying the familiar tune and you close to his body. Talking about body, his hands slid gently and progressively to stay on your hips. Man, does this boy love your body.

“The best, darling”, he whispered lost in his own world, a satisfied smile on his beautiful face.

Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight I love cheap thrills... Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight I love cheap thrills...

Nobody to disturb you. Nobody to interrupt this pleasant moment you two were sharing. Just the two of you. And all you did was smiling ever more.

But I don't need no money As long as I can feel the beat

“You know, you should have put some high heels on, darling…”

Tom threw that sentence out of nowhere, but with that kissable smirk. And you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. Imagining yourself wearing one of your pair of heels while having your actual sweatpants on was just hilarious.

I don't need no money As long as I keep dancing

“You wish, Tommy, you wish.”

“With you? Always, darling.”

That was all you needed. You loved cheap thrills with your man.

🏷 Permanent tag list & mutuals 💖 (get notified)

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[emybain]

After the Battle

hey @rubys-finger-cymbals im your secret santa for the gift exchange!!! ive never written an osby/tuckva-centered fic before so I hope I did okay with this one:) I had so much fun delving into ruby’s mind, and hopefully this wont be the last time I write these two beans! I hope you have a merry Christmas if you celebrate it, and if not, I hope you have a wonderful day!!

THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA!!! 

    It seemed like an eternity had passed in the amount of time Ruby spent searching for her friends. If it weren’t for Max, she wouldn’t have been there in the first place. He convinced her to sneak him out of her home, as her mom put the two of them on house arrest, and take him to the scene of the battle. For someone so young, he was a pretty persuasive kid when he needed to be. Now, after witnessing the near destruction of Gatlon and it’s unexpected reconstruction, she knew bringing Max was the right thing to do. However, she had dozens of questions in her head about what the heck just happened. Gatlon was saved, Ace Anarchy was finally killed, and silence...silence, and then out of nowhere, a powerful energy sweeping out from the cathedral and over Gatlon, bringing with it a beautiful light. At first, she was frozen in awe, until she felt familiar aches from her arm, chest, and stomach where she had been stabbed all those years ago. After being neutralized at the arena, her mom patched up her wounds, which had grown more painful than when she was a prodigy. Peeking underneath the bandages confirmed her giddy, although confused, suspicions. The murmurs and gasps and screams of joy further confirmed that she wasn’t just hallucinating; those who had been neutralized were prodigies again. 

    Ruby shoved through the mass of people gathered at the cathedral, only barely paying recognition to the gathering media stations and helicopters to the battle scene. There were three people on her mind, one more than the others perhaps. Her heart began to sink, tears springing to her eyes, at a possibility that she refused to be true. But then her eyes laid on Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden, embracing tightly. Nearby stood four figures, three of them that Ruby knew. A grin broke out on her face as she ran towards them, calling out their names. 

    Oscar was the first to turn, eyes widening at the sight of her. That dopey, relaxed grin that Ruby adored played at his lips. She all but hurled herself into his arms, burying her face into his neck. She felt his hold on her tighten, tugging her closer to him. Pulling back just slightly to look at him, she could tell he was exhausted but elated to see her. The tension in her shoulders relaxed upon seeing that other than a few scratches here and there, he was mostly unharmed. 

    “I was getting worried when I couldn’t find you,” she murmured, bringing her hand to rest on his cheek. “You’re a big, dumb, stupid idiot for doing that to me.”

    Oscar leaned into her touch. “Didn’t I promise I’d come back to you? We still haven’t gone on a first date, after all, and me dying would’ve been a bit awkward for timing.”

    Ruby rolled her eyes, and was pulling him in for a kiss when a throat cleared. She opened her eyes and glanced over Oscar’s shoulder at Danna.

    “We’re alive too, by the way,” she teased, gesturing to Adrian and herself. Ruby broke out into another smile and planted a kiss on Oscar’s cheek before her racing heart could decide for her otherwise. 

    She parted from him and hugged her other two friends, gripping them tightly. The fourth person she had seen earlier stood awkwardly off to the side behind Adrian, and Ruby gasped when she recognized who it was. But...why was Nova dressed like...like…

    “Nova’s Nightmare?” She frowned up at Adrian, then Danna, then Oscar. Clearly, she had missed a lot more than she had originally thought. “But...but what about Cronin’s granddaughter?”

    “It was a cover up to get me out of prison,” Nova explained, taking a hesitant step forward. Ruby stepped back, mouth agape. If Nova was an Anarchist, then why was she still alive? And here with Ruby’s friends? “Ruby, I-”

    “You betrayed us,” Ruby snapped, causing Nova to flinch. “You manipulated us and tricked us and...and-and…” her mouth struggled to find the right words, her body suddenly filled with anger, “you neutralized innocent people! Among dozens of other things,” she added. 

    “She’s on our side again, Ruby.” Adrian reached for Nova, who tentatively allowed him to pull her beside him. Ruby’s frown deepened at the protective way his hand rested on her arm. “Listen, it’s been a long night, and we’re all tired. We’ll explain more tomorrow, okay?”

    Ruby shook her head firmly. “No. I don’t trust her, not after everything she’s done to us, to Gatlon. And I frankly don’t understand why any of you would trust her, either.”

    Oscar wrapped an arm around hers. “She helped us kill her uncle, Ruby, as well as other Anarchists. I didn’t want to trust her at first, either, but I think she’s genuinely sorry for everything.”

    Nova coughed into her arm. “Right here, you know.” Her gaze shifted to Ruby, and her eyes softened, almost making Ruby’s frown lighten up. “I don’t blame you for not trusting me, Ruby, and I understand if you never want to speak to me again.” She glanced over the others quickly. “That goes for the rest of you. I’ve been blinded for most of my life, and because of that, I’ve been following the wrong cause.” She shook her head. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but it turns out I was just lied to my entire life and-” her voice broke, and she dropped her head to the ground, releasing a slow sigh. She raised it back up again, and at the sight of unshed tears in her eyes, Ruby’s frown disappeared this time. “I’m sorry, really. If I could turn back time and fix all my mistakes, starting ten years ago, I would.”

    Although she didn’t want to forgive Nova just yet, Ruby nodded.  Her apology would do for now, and in all honesty, Ruby had a feeling there was more to the story that she hadn’t heard yet. Deep down, even when she had previously believed Nova to be an Anarchist when the other girl was arrested, Ruby knew that she had a good heart. Too many instances had occurred where Nova had proven that, and Ruby couldn’t forget about them. There were still questions dancing at the tip of her tongue, but judging from the worn state of her friends, they would have to come later. 

_______

    Adrian and Nova had left to check on Max, who, according to Adrian, was more spent than the rest of them but resting. Danna had also left to speak with some other Renegades, leaving Ruby alone with Oscar. 

    They sat in front of the cathedral in the dirt, joined at the hip. She leaned against him, playing with his fingers that rested in her hand. They didn’t speak for a while, just letting everything sink in and settle before saying anything. Ruby didn’t want to talk about the fighting or the events of the night, not yet anyway. Not until her questions were ready to be answered. Oscar, apparently, didn’t either. 

    “I had a plan, you know,” he spoke up, turning his head slightly to look down at Ruby. 

    Ruby hummed, lacing their fingers together and letting their joined hands fall into her lap. “What do you mean?”

    “To ask you out.” A small blush formed on his cheeks; Ruby would’ve teased him about it had she not felt her own heat up. “Called it Operation Crown Jewels.”

    Ruby scrunched her nose in disgust. “Ew, seriously? What the hell, Oscar?”

    He threw his free hand up in exaggeration. “Because, you know, your gift and your name and all. Crown Jewels.”   

    Okay, she had to admit that the thought was sweet. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, heart thrumming at the way his thumb traced a pattern over the back of her hand in response. “And what was this plan?”

    Oscar dropped his eyes to the ground briefly before returning them to Ruby, his expression sheepish. “Well, it was many things, really. Poems, speeches, grand declarations of love…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “But nothing was ever good enough. It had to be perfect.”

    Ruby snuggled closer to him, reaching her free hand up to push back one of his curls. She thought back to the arena and how he fiercely defended her after she lost her gift. And their kiss…

    “It was perfect, planned or not.” A teasing smile appeared on her lips. “Although, I wish you would’ve made a move sooner, dummy.”

    “Hey!” Oscar nudged her shoulder playfully, causing a laugh to escape her mouth. She pushed him back, their hands separating from one another. But the chill that went through her body at the loss of his warmth was brief, for he wrapped her up into his arms once more. This time, though, she was practically in his lap, his arms draped loosely around her waist; she had to twist her whole body toward him to be comfortable. Their laughs slowly disintegrated, their smiles falling shortly behind. 

    Oscar placed a hand under her ear, fingers curling around the hair at the nape of her neck. Ruby’s heart pounded in her chest. In her mind, she chided herself on this sudden burst of nerves. It was just Oscar. Her friend. Her best friend. 

    “I’ve had a crush on you since I first saw you at the trials.” Ruby’s lips parted a little at that; while she had been crushing on him as well, it hadn’t been as long as that. Her crush had only surfaced about a year and a half ago, confusing and terrifying and wonderful and painful all at once. “And since then, I’ve been a sucker for girls with white and black hair. Oh, and also the color red.”

    Ruby blushed furiously, wanting to look away in embarrassment but forcing herself to keep her focus trained on his eyes. “Oscar, I-”

    “You’re the most amazing girl I know, Ruby,” he interrupted softly. “You’re also the girl of my dreams, which is why I’ve been terrified to do this.”

    Ruby scrunched up her nose when he didn’t continue. “Terrified to do what?”

    Oscar inhaled slowly, then exhaled. His gaze shifted to the ground, then back up to her. “Ruby Tucker, will you be my girlfriend?”

    The world around her shrunk to just her and Oscar. No longer were they resting on a battlefield, surrounded by Renegades and the media. It was just the two of them and the overflow of happiness expanding in Ruby’s chest. She beamed at Oscar, laughing wildly before leaning forward and smushing her lips against his. 

    He hummed in surprise, but quickly reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm. Her hands were just starting to wound their way around his neck, her fingers itching to dig themselves into his crazy curls, when he pulled back suddenly. Her lips, not expecting that, chased after his. 

    “Wait wait wait.” He held up a hand between them, a goofy sparkle in his eyes. “Is that a yes.”

    Ruby groaned loudly, fingers wrapping around strands of hair as she pulled him back to her. She had waited a year and a half for this, and didn’t want to waste a single moment. “If I say yes will you go back to kissing me?” While she was fully teasing him, like he had teased her, her answer wasn’t completely a joke. 

    His hand dropped to her waist. “Mhm.”

    “Then yes.” She peppered light kisses around his face, from his nose to his cheeks to his eyebrows, then to his lips. “A thousand times yes, Oscar Silva.”

    When they kissed again, Ruby shivered. Very quickly, the kiss deepened, possibly more than it should considering they were in public and surrounded by dozens of people. But Ruby didn’t care, not one bit.

    The only thing she cared about at the moment was right there in front of her.

[t-khalynn-tales]

Provoking Ire

Author’s Note: Originally started out as “Hey, lets write a really short, funny scene with Mei making rude gestures at people!”  

~Three thousand words later...~ __________

“Mei, ya sure ya wanna do this?” Tala handed Mei the practice weapon, frowning slightly. “ ‘Cause ‘m not sure…”

Mei nodded firmly, taking the weapon in hand. It was, essentially, a plank of stout oak, longer than she was tall, with a leather-wrapped handle meant for a two-handed grip. 

~Yah. T uses a sword too,~ she added, pointing to her cousin’s sword and shield, currently being guarded by a watchful blue chocobo. ~An’ T practice fights with tall folk, sometimes.~

“Well, yeah. But issa little different! I started learnin' years ago! But Mei has only been learnin' fer a little bit! Maybe gettin’ a few more lessons first would be better…?”

Mei shook her head, expression confident. ~Is fine. Mei wants ta learn like this, Mei learns best like this.~ Shifting her grip a moment, she made a fist with her right hand, and pressed it into her own chest, near her heart. ~T can trust Mei, ok?~

Tala just sighed. “Alright.”

“Yo! You popotoes done dithering yet?” the big Hyur called out, shifting from foot to foot, his own oversized practice blade resting on his shoulder. “I’m a busy man, so if you’re just gonna chicken out, just gimme the gil now so I can get a drink somewhere.”

Both lalas turned towards the speaker. Tala just grimaced in exasperation, while Mei’s eyes narrowed in irritation.

“Is only NOON!” Tala protested with a huff.

The young mercenary laughed. “Yeah, so? In case ya hadn’t noticed, shorty, Gyr Abania is hot. It’s always a good time for a drink.”

The lala just shook her head and turned back to Mei. “Anyroad. Okay, so remember ta watch how he moves. He’s got th’ longer reach, so ya hafta be quicker ‘n ‘im. ‘Specially since ya only got a big wooden stick ta attack an’ defend with.”

~Duh,~ the younger lala scoffed, still focussed more on the cocky mercenary than the advice.

“Hey, is not MY fault ya chose th’ big giant sword ta learn. Issa different kinda sword fightin than mine, so ‘m not able ta help ya wi’ that. But fer basic fightin things, yeah.”

Finally noticing the cause of Mei’s distraction, Tala flicked her cousin’s forehead. Hard. 

Mei rubbed at the new bruise. ~Ow.~

“Focus, Mei!”

~Fine,~ she pouted.

“So, one part of fightin I learned from Kori is stuff like this. Sometimes when people are fightin', they can do an’ say dumb things. Like, ta break yer focus, an’ put ya on yer back foot. Kori says, easiest way fer them ta do that, is ta make ya mad. Like, callin lalas popotoes an’ stuff. So dun let ‘im trick ya inta anger, okay?"

The other lala nodded.

“An’ dun forget, YOU can use th’ same trick on ‘im, too. So, like, Kori likes ta shout mean things at ‘em. Callin’ ‘em names, tellin ‘em ta stuff their, uh, stuff inta their own backsides, ‘n things.”

Mei raised an eyebrow. ~Oh? So how ‘bout T? What does T do?~

Tala flushed slightly. “Umm… well… a-anyroad. Even if ya can’t yell at ‘im,’m sure ya can come up wi’ somethin.”

After a moment, the younger lala just grinned wickedly.

“Yo, seriously! Any time now?”

Recognizing her cousin’s mischievous expression, Tala sighed. “Just dun make ‘im TOO mad, okay? I’d hate ta get run outta town fer bustin' 'is face wi’ my shield.”

The man scoffed. “I’d like to see ya try it, shorty!”

~No promises,~ Mei retorted, gripping the practice blade in both hands as she turned to face her current "tutor."

“FI-nally! Alright, pipsqueak, let’s get started…”

___________

The sounds of heavy clashing wood filled the air of the small sparring yard.

It was stupid. The whole thing was just dumb. Starting with a pair of novices, sizing each other up at the small town's only training dummy. Some unsolicited criticism first, then some rude gestures and snippy commentary in return, dutifully translated by a reluctant Tala. And now this -- a "friendly" challenge and wager.

Tala was clearly against it, but could only watch anxiously from the sidelines. 

So far, Mei was doing remarkably well at holding her own, despite the fresh welts and bruises both combatants were now sporting. It seemed Mei did learn quickly when thrown into the fire. Especially since her opponent was a little impatient. And not used to facing opponents so much shorter than himself.

Mei was also exceptionally good at taking advantage of that. And at being a brat about it.

The lala ducked under a wide slash, then managed to counter with an upward swing that seemed almost impossible with such a large sword. The Hyur jumped back, but not quick enough -- the blunted wooden tip managed to clip him. He fell back with a curse, clutching his left forearm.

But Mei quickly stepped forward in pursuit, switching her grip and leaping up to deliver an overhead strike. The man barely managed to adjust his own practice blade to block, grunting at the force of the blow. A little unnerved, pulled back again, blade ready to guard.

“Shit!” he spat, tensing his arm, the pain still pulsing like a jagged flame, flaring to the beat of his own heart. “What the hell!”

Mei smirked and relaxed her stance, settling her sword against her shoulder and beckoning with one hand. The insult needed no translation.

~Bring it.~

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a spicy little popoto, ain’t ya,” he sneered in response, grip tightening in anger. “Looks like I’ll have ta stomp ya back into the dirt a bit!”

Both lalas blinked in momentary confusion, trying to make any kind of sense of that. But when the man charged forward with a roar, Mei set herself for another clash.

He attempted an overhead strike of his own, intending to smack the uppity lala on the head in retribution. But Mei angled her blade to deflect most of the power of the swing and side-stepped, letting his own momentum continue to carry him forward. As his sword made contact with the dirt, she managed to spin around, slapping his butt with the flat of her own weapon. With a yelp of surprise, he lost his balance and fell.

Face first. 

He lay there for a moment in stunned silence, before scrambling to his feet again.

“You little…”

Suddenly, the energy in the air shifted. Like an abrupt drop in temperature, or a sudden shadow obscuring the sun. Where before there was an atmosphere of begrudging parity and competition, now there was an invisible miasma of sheer malice.

And for just a moment, it seemed the tall Hyur’s eyes glowed an inhuman red…

He lunged forward, much quicker than before. Mei managed to barely block the first wild blow, but couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the second. Or the third. With a gasp, the wooden blade fell from her hands, pain resonating through her arm.

The fourth blow hit her in the stomach driving her to her knees, gasping for air. Wincing, she just barely managed to duck and roll out of the way from the fifth strike. She crouched to get back to her feet, only to be met with a boot to the face. Mei flew back, landing on her back with a dull thud in a small cloud of dust.

“Got anything else, runt?” she heard him growl menacingly. Blinking, Mei made out the blurry dark shape looming over her. Belligerently, she replied with a bloody smirk -- and a single shaking middle finger.

“You little…” the dark shape raised his oversized blade up high…

...and winced when a heavy coin pouch struck him in the face.

“THA’S ENOUGH! Ya won yer stupid bet, now take yer coin an’ BACK OFF!” Tala yelled, brandishing a make-shift broken broomstick handle. “Or ya really WILL get a shield ta th’ face!”

"Yeah? How ya gonna reach that high, shorty? Stepladder?"

"Nah, 'm just go gonna kick ya inna crotch ta bring yer ugly arse-face closer. Might need a jeweler's loup ta find yer itty bitty manhood, though."

"...what…?"

"Jeweler's loup? Ya know, th' thing goldsmiths use fer lookin at really small stuff? Spirits, are ya stupid too, an’ nae just ugly? ‘M feeling sorry fer yer Mum."

“Shut up, or I’ll show you ugly,” he snarled, stalking towards the shorter lala -- and subsequently away from the one laying prone on the ground.

“Ya dun gotta get closer, yer ugly face is PLENTY UGLY e’en from REALLY FAR ‘WAY!”

Mei wanted to keep watching, but her eyes were just... so... heavy. The last thing she saw was the Hyur charging her cousin’s much-smaller form in the distance. 

Then darkness enfolded her in its soft embrace, and consciousness faded away.

__________

There was something loud going on. Mei wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it was loud. And annoying. And she was tired. Really tired. She just wanted to sleep a little more.

But as the noise went on and on and on, she realized that, as tired as she was, she wasn’t going to get that sleep right now. And that she was also not very comfortable right now. The floor was too hard, too dusty, and too hot. And something feathery hovering over her, cooing softly but insistently in her ear. Reluctantly, she managed to open her eyes, frowning against both the brightness of the sun, and at the pain echoing through her body. 

She groaned silently as she tried to sit up. A blue feathered head helped support her.

“Kweh!” the chocobo scolded her softly, even as she felt healing energies continuing to flow from him into her battered face, easing some of the pain. Mei recognized Stalwart, her cousin’s blue chocobo companion, and gave him a little pat in thanks. She then turned her bleary attention to the source of all the yelling.

If she could, she would have laughed.

The big Hyur, the one she had been sparring with, lay in a heap nearby -- face clearly bruised and a little bloody. His nose was obviously very broken, and he may have lost a tooth or two. A healer in robes seemed to be tending his wounds. Another man, a Hyur, older and somewhat resembling the one bemoaning his smashed face, was standing over Tala, hands on his hips, yelling angrily.

Tala just glared back up at him defiantly, arms crossed. Despite one swollen eye, she was clearly unrepentant.

And finally, an armored miquo’te stood somewhat between them both, tail twitching ever-so-slightly. The manner of his stance and the state of his armor indicated he held some level of rank, as well as respect, in the small settlement.

“So,” the first man sneered. “What yer saying is, young Stefan here beat the little brat there in a spar, so YOU beat him up? Yourself?”

“No,” Tala corrected. “He baited her inta a wager. One he knew he’d win. Prolly ‘cause ‘es a lot bigger ‘n her, an’ also ‘cause he has more trainin’ too. But she managed ta get th’ drop on ‘im. He got ‘is feelins hurt, so got mad an’ beat her near ta unconscious. I tole ‘im ta take ‘is winnings an’ go, but he was gonna hit her again. THAT’S why I stepped in. Wouldnae been needed, if he hadnae got so mad an’ stupid.”

“Riiiiight. Short little runt like you managed to beat my boy Stefan with a broom handle.”

“Nope. Broom handle was mostly fer distraction. I just kicked ‘im inna crotch, then bashed ‘im inna face wi’ my shield,” she gestured to the round shield at her back with a thumb. “I e’en tole ‘im I was gonna do it, afore I did. Isnae my fault he didnae listen.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Khalynn, but the battering to his face wasn’t caused by just one hit,” the healer spoke up, continuing her healing duties.

The miquo’te looked at the lala inquisitively.

“Oh, yeah,” she shrugged. “He kept gettin back up an’ chargin in, so I had ta bash him inna face a few more times. Again, isnae my fault he's stupid. Oh, an’ ya might wanna get some ice fer ‘is crotch, too. I mighta stepped on ‘im a bit.”

Both men winced slightly, but the miquo’te’s lips twitched upward in hidden amusement.

“My boy has been training for over a year!” the man yelled. “He’s a good recruit, shows good promise with the greatsword! There’s no way…”

“Your boy,” Tala cut in sharply, “is undisciplined an’ too easily provoked. Also maybe a bit unscrupuled, ta be settin’ up wagers wi’ beginners, yeah? So maybe ya should teach ‘im better.”

“And who are YOU to lecture me, runt?”

“Miss Khalynn is recognized as a free paladin,” the miquo'te noted dryly. “She was also a volunteer in the healer’s division of the Twin Adders. And now she leads a small but honorable free company.”

The lala in question coughed, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“HAH! THIS runt? A paladin?”

Tala huffed, blue eyes glinting. “If ya want, I can bash YER face in wi’ my shield, too.”

“That’s enough, Dorian,” the miquo’te stated firmly. “Upon my honor, I assure you Miss Khalynn is indeed a free paladin. Unless you doubt me?”

The man immediately backed off. “No, of course not, Rakhal. You’re a man of yer word, and all. But, still, how…?”

“What, did you never witness Pipin Tarupin fight on the Bloodsands? Size does not count for everything.” Rakhal shook his head. “Now, back to the matter at hand. Miss Khalynn, do you swear to your earlier statement?”

Straightening, Tala nodded. “Aye, is truth. I give ya my word, upon my honor.”

The miquo’te nodded as well, then turned to the healer. “And Lucinne, what say you?”

The elezen woman looked up. “Well, the story plays out with what I witnessed when I got here. THIS one,” she poked her now bandaged patient, “was getting the snot beat out of him by Miss Khalynn. While THAT one, “she points to Mei, the lala in red being propped up by a blue chocobo “was laid out on the ground, with a boot print across her face. Her nose was smashed in, badly. Also there was deep bruising of her abdomen, and several nasty welts on her arms and face. Had to do a little conjury to heal her up a bit, but switched over to THIS one once Miss Khalynn was done with him.”

“Why didn’t ya heal my nose?” the young merc whined, gently nursing his bandaged nose.

The healer just snorted. “Because you’re a bully and an ass, Stefan. And it was about time someone put you in your place.”

“Now look here...” the bigger Hyur started angrily.

“No, YOU listen here!” Lucinne replied, just as hotly. “I’ve been out here in Gyr Albania since the breeching of Baelsar’s Wall. I’ve seen plenty of folk from all sorts of free companies pass through these lands. Some looking to help out restoring and reclaiming the land. Some looking to earn a quick gil. I know a thing or two about people. And Dorian, your boy is a bully. Like Miss Khalynn said, teach him better!” 

With an angry huff, the healer gathered her things and left.

“Well then, I guess that settles things, then,” Rakhal decided. “Unless, of course, you have any further objections, Dorian?”

The big man mumbled something under his breath, but shook his head.

“What about my winnings?” Stefan whined.

At that the big man growled and hauled the injured young man to his feet by the collar, “Shut yer face, boy! If you think you’re good enough ta be showing off your blade skills, we’ll just have ta put ya to the test, right? Be ready fer more training tomorrow! At dawn!”

The two lalas and one miquo’te watched the big man drag the younger one away.

“I almost feel sorry for the kid,” he noted.

~Mei doesn’t!~

Tala laughed, earning a puzzled look from the armored warrior. She shook her head. “Issa bit long ta ‘xplain, Kal. But this is my cousin, Mei.” 

He bowed politely. “A pleasure, Miss Mei. I am Rakhal'sae Moui, a free paladin like Miss Khalynn here. In fact, I trained with her for a time.”

Assisted by Stalwart, Mei had come closer to the chatting pair, and nodded back. The chocobo had healed most of her wounds by now, and she only had a slight headache. Nothing a good night’s rest and a good meal wouldn’t fix up. She nodded at the paladin politely, then glanced at her cousin to translate.

“Kal!” the other lala protested. “Ya know is just Tala. Dun start th’ ‘Miss Khalynn’ stuff again! An’ Mei says, ‘Is nice ta meetcha, too’ ”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Um, she can’t talk. But I can understand her. Kinda.”

“This sounds like an interesting story. Maybe you can share it over a nice meal?” he held up the pouch of gil that had been all but forgotten in the scramble. 

Surprising everyone, Stalwart nimbly snatched it out of his hand. He prodded Mei gently until she extended an open palm, then plopped the pouch into her grasp.

“Well, guess Stal agrees,” Tala chuckled. “Lead th’ way, Kal.”

As they followed along, Tala turned to her cousin. “So, didya learn anythin’ from that mess?”

Mei smirked. ~Yah. T is REALLY good at makin’ insults.~ 

__________

A.N. 2: So originally, the plan was for Mei to be a Black Mage for DPS, with Dark Knight as a tanking job on the side, showing how Tala and Mei are kind of opposites -- White Mage to Black Mage, and Paladin to Dark Knight.

However, game-play wise, I rediscovered that I am in fact BAD at Black Mage, and DRK tanking just… didn’t feel right for me as a player somehow.

Luckily with Stormblood came Red Mage, a DPS class I was much more suited for. And with Shadowbringers, Mei was able to finally find a tank class that works - Gunbreaker. It’s been a lot of fun so far.

(And, thematically, having both Tala and Mei become primarily RDMs changed the focus on the cousins as well, but anyway…)

So in this story, which takes place a little bit after the close of “Greetings and Farewells,” Mei is trying to learn how to Dark Knight. Or at least, how to use the giant two-handed sword taller than she is. I know that the skills for the job have changed, and I’m no longer sure if Provoke was a thing for DRKs way back then, but I’m going with it anyway.

Also, to clarify - Mei is mute, but has the ability to "speak" with Tala telepathically. And like with spoken words, Mei can also convey a lot of emotions through the tone of these silent communications. Tala can sometimes project some emotions back through their link, but cannot manage to convey actual words.

[haikyuu-drabble]

can you write a jealousy drabble w oikawa :)

why... do i have such a soft spot for this dude someone help idk who my fav is anymore. also thank you for requesting! i have some others in my ask box atm but i’ll prob get to them tomorrow i’ve literally written so much in the past couple of days im already a little burnt out and should prob wait for some motivation. it just sux bc ive some rly great ideas but im having issues putting it into words :’’’’)

________________________________________

Oikawa x Reader | Lengthy

word count: 1150

It pissed you off that you were jealous. It pissed you off that you had no right to even be jealous. It pissed you off that you felt like you’d never have a chance. ----------- Oikawa Tooru was one of your first friends at high school. You appreciated him coming up to you on the first day of class. None of your friends were attending Aoba Johsai, and you were sitting alone at your desk. You guessed he noticed that you seemed lonely, so Oikawa approached you. He had a knack for drawing attention to himself. Whether it was good or bad depended on the person, but to you it was good. He helped you make friends and reach out to strangers. The two of you were able to maintain a friendship despite his always growing popularity... and with your strong feelings for him.

Every time you thought you were getting over him, he’d reel you right back in with that stupid smile or his obnoxious comments. But you believed that he never viewed you the same way you viewed him.

You were slightly looking forward to getting over you how felt about Oikawa when you’d leave for university. But that plan was ruined when you found out you were attending the same school as Oikawa. When he found out that you were going to school together again, Oikawa was overjoyed, and you were too. But there was just a large part of your heart that hurt. It made you hopeful, and that’s what crushed you. ------------ You and your friend from another school, Bokuto, were currently at a volleyball match for the men’s volleyball team at your university. Oikawa invited you earlier that day to watch the game, and you figured it was a good chance to hang out with Bokuto since he’d probably want to scout out the competition for his own team. Unsurprisingly, Oikawa was first-string setter. When the game finally finished, you wanted to go up to Oikawa and congratulate him. However, you were pushed to the side by the girls who swarmed your classmate. That’s when you could feel yourself building up with jealousy which led to disappointment. Bokuto asked, “Aren’t you going to go up to him?”

“He looks busy. I’ll just text him later or something.” You smiled and shook your head, “I’ll just head back home.”

You began to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, “We watched the whole thing. I know Oikawa would be happy to see that you came. He asked you to come, didn’t he?”

“And I did just that.” you replied, “It’s fine.”

You walked out of the gym while Bokuto watched you. When you neared exit the gym, Bokuto looked back and forth in the direction of you and then at Oikawa who was distracted by the random girls. Bokuto roared, “Oikawa!”

You were too far away to hear Bokuto trying to get Oikawa’s attention, but Oikawa heard him loud and clear. Once Bokuto saw that he caught the setter’s attention, he pointed at your retreating figure. Oikawa excused himself from the girls who were talking to him and jogged in your direction.

You, on the other hand, could feel your heart breaking. You felt a mixture of emotions—anger, sadness, frustration. Tears started to form in your eyes. You felt so upset at yourself. 

You took a deep breath when you left the building and looked up at the night sky. Suddenly, someone grabbed your arm, and you turned around to see who it was. You saw a breathless Oikawa gazing at you. He saw the tears in your eyes and softly asked, “What’s wrong?”

You felt the tears start to well up even more, and you apologized, “I’m sorry.”

He put his hands on your shoulders and gently made you face him. Oikawa gave a supportive smile, “What could you possibly be sorry for?”

You looked at him, “I can’t be your friend anymore.”

Oikawa’s hands dropped to his sides, and he apprehensively laughed, “W-what do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” You mumbled.

“Where is this coming from?” Oikawa whispered.

“I’ve been trying for so long. I didn’t want things to turn out like this.” You cried, “I really wanted to be with you forever, but I can’t just keep on watching you like this. It hurts, you know? When I see you around all these other people flirting with you, I get jealous. I hate that you don’t feel the same way about me. I hate that I… I hate that I love you.”

“You love me?” Oikawa repeated.

You gave a sardonic smile, “Of course you wouldn’t know. I just thought that one day I would get over these feelings, but just being around you all the time gets my hopes up. But I knew the whole time that you would never feel the same about me.”

Oikawa held your cheeks and made you look at him, “What have I ever done to make you feel that way?”

You stared at him, “What?”

“You, dummy.” He laughed, “Why do you think I still ask you to hang out all the time? Why do you think I always ask you to come to my games? Why do you think I ran all the way out here to catch up to you?”

“I—what?” you asked again.

“For someone so smart, you can be so dumb.” He gave you a sweet smile, “I’ve liked you probably for a longer time than you’ve liked me.”

“B-but I’ve liked you since our second year of high school!” you cried, “And you’ve been going through relationships left and right since our first year.”

Oikawa’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and he mumbled, “I asked you out first year, and you denied me.”

“When did that ever happen?” you nearly yelled.

Oikawa yelled back, “The fact that you don’t even know when just goes to show!”

“You always joke around, so it’s hard to tell when you’re serious! Besides that doesn’t explain you dating other people!” you complained.

Oikawa grimaced, “Those were all flings and regretful ones at that. They clearly didn’t work out because here I’ve been, single for a couple years now!”

“T-that’s because of me?” you stuttered.

Oikawa cupped your cheeks, “If I hadn’t made that clear enough, maybe this will.”

His inched his face closer to you, and you clamped your eyes shut. A couple seconds had passed, and Oikawa’s hands dropped from your cheeks. You opened one eye and saw him squatting on the ground. He pouted, “You’re so cute! How could I even kiss you?”

You knelt down next to him and looked him dead in the eye. You quickly pecked his lips and stood up. Before he could even stand up, you were nearly sprinting away from him. He called out for you, “I have a meeting tonight to discuss the match! But don’t think I won’t be coming over to talk to your apartment about this!”

Without turning around to hide your beet red skin, you yelled, “I’ll be expecting you then!”

[oh-theatre]

Sycamore High: There are Things... (Chapter 33)

A/N: Hey write other characters, ok but consider I write Ted and Tommy, fair enough. ALSO, YES IM SETTING UP A SEQUEL IT WILL TAKE PLACE DURING THEIR SENIOR YEAR... that just means we won't be seeing them do Starship, but it will be mentioned

summary: Tommy's parents are home...

words: 4,459

warnings: homophobia, swearing, kissing, negative thoughts, mentions of death, crying,

Ao3 Link

“What?!” The class cried in unison. Chad held up his hands defensively, shushing them.

“They can't just cancel the musicals!” Ted called, Chad eyed him, he sank back into the chair feeling the heat rise in his face. Paul giggled patting his shoulder.

“They aren't...canceling them perse” Chad explains, “they are just spreading them out between the next two years. So...we will do Starship next year and Falsettos the year after that” He informs, the class groans once more. “Sorry guys” He finished just as the bell rings. “Don't forget the musical ends soon so if you haven't seen it!” He shouts. Ted waves goodbye before leaning into Paul.

“I haven't seen the musical, we should go see it” He whispers, Pauls smirks before nodding “I heard the lead sucks” Charlotte swats his arm glaring.

“I heard that the one guy who plays his brother is awful!” Emma mimics Charlotte's actions, dummies. “But yes we should see it, when are you free?” Paul says pulling out his phone, he opens his calendar. Emma rolls her eyes, Bill starts walking faster now.

“Oh, not until next month, you?” Ted responds as they make their way into the halls. Paul checks his calendar once more ignoring the groans coming from the girls.

“Shame, me too” Paul shrugs “Well squiddy doo! Guess we won't be seeing the musical”

“Indubiously” Ted replies, Bill turns eyeing him. He grins wildly at his smaller friend, a look of pride. Bill purses his lips, afraid his answer won't satisfy.

“Nope, still not the correct usage” Bill responds, Ted snaps his fingers before sighing. “You'll get it one day” Bill assures, Ted fakes a sullen look before laughing. “Anyway, can you believe it's closing soon? And then its winter break” Bill exclaims. They sit at their lunch table, Tommy joins soon after, receiving a quick kiss from Ted.

“I know!” Tommy smiles, he opens his lunch munching down quite quickly “I'm excited for Christmas! And snow! And cookies! And presents!” Ted laughs, Bill nods, Tommy smiles at the rest of the group.

“We don't celebrate Christmas but I am excited for snow” Bill adds, Tommy smiles politely, he covers his mouth speaking through his food.

“Do you celebrate anything?” He shakes his head “Sorry that sounded rude-

“No you're fine, it's a fair question,” Bill interjects, Ted and Paul listen as they eat their own food. “I don't, my dad and I just enjoy the time off” Tommy smiles, clearly content with the answer. He turns to Emma who raises an eyebrow before sighing.

“Christmas T” Emma says, she smiles at him. She can’t be annoyed, not at his sweet curious face. He giggles before turning to Paul, he thinks for a moment.

“Same” He responds, Tommy looks expectantly to Charlotte, she smiles. He might know a lot about each of his friends, but there's still more he can learn.

“I don't celebrate anything either but me and my mom have our own holiday! We just bake and make crafts” Charlotte explains, Emma nods. Tommy squeals, he looks to Ted finally who shies away from answering. Tommy kept staring, Ted slumps his shoulders pouting.

“I don't know,” he admitted, Tommy softened, he slid his hand into Teds under the table “I would usually hang out at Paul or Bills, my parents never did anything. I think I'm supposed to celebrate Christmas, but I don't know what my dads are going to do” He finishes, Tommy squeezes his hand reassuringly, he felt a sense of pride at the ease of the word ‘dads’ sliding so easily off his boyfriend's tongue. “No, it's ok” Ted glances over at Paul and Bill “I have a lot of fond memories with these two losers” They chuckled. Tommy buzzed kissing him softly on the cheek. He felt a light buzz in his pocket, excusing himself from the group.

Mama

Mama: Tommy, we are returning home tonight. We hope to see you readily dressed, homework complete and ready for dinner.

Tommy bounced, his parents were coming home. And they wanted to have dinner out with him! He glanced back at the group, his eyes landing on Ted. Should he invite Ted? His Grammy would be there, it wouldn't be so bad...would it? Maybe they could see his play!

Tommy: Grammy and I will be ready! Could I invite a friend?

Though he hated writing it like such, but over text was really not how he’d like to reveal anything.

Mama: I suppose so, I have a meeting, do not text me anymore.

Love you too Mom, He sighed, he shoved the phone back into his pocket, making his way back to the group. Ted smiled at him, he took this as an invitation to lean on Ted's shoulder, Ted did not mind.

“You alright gumdrop?” Ted whispers into Tommy's hair. Tommy feels a chill run down his spine, he nods.

“Wanna have dinner with me tonight?” Tommy asks, Ted furrows his brows “Its with my parents and Grammy” He informs, Ted sucks in a sharp breath.

“Your parents…?” Ted cautions, from what he knew and heard they were not Ted's favorite people at the moment. But...who doesn't like Raina Sweet? Tommy nods, yawning suddenly. “Alright, but only because I like your grandma” Tommy sat up slapping Ted's arm playfully

“Hey! What about me?” He pouts. Ted strokes his chin for a moment, before shrugging.

“What about you?” He teases, Tommy gasped, he leans in kissing Ted.

“How dare you” He whispers up against his lips. Ted kisses back but pulls away soon after much to Tommy's disappointment, he looks to his food. Examining the remains of the packed lunch his fathers had packed for him. An apple, some veggie chips, and a salad. An idea lit up in Ted's mind and he turned back to Tommy, inspiration glazing his eyes.

“Really? Right in front of my salad?” He whines, Tommy laughs. They pull away as Ted rejoins the conversation picking at his last bits of food. Dinner, with my parents, and grandma, He looks over at Ted smiling and laughing along with the group, and my boyfriend. And it's going to be Christmas soon!

~~~

“I don't know” Tommy admits, Paul and Bill share a glance.

“Well it has to be a surprise,” Paul says, Bill nods. Tommy goes to speak but they are on a roll now. “Ice cream cake”

“Salty foods, lots of chips” Bill adds, Paul snaps his fingers. Tommy backs further into the corner. “Karaoke maybe? Or bowling” Bill wonders

“Maybe we c-”

“There has to be some kind of live music” Paul notes, Tommy huddles further. He doesn't like being interrupted but he hates confrontation. And honestly? He felt a little out of his league, the pair continued to spout ideas off of each other. They were aware that Tommy was there, but they weren't talking at or with him. The ideas piled on, one after another. Color schemes, foods, things that had worked in the past. Tommy felt overwhelmed, he barely understood most of their suggestions in context. His neck hurt from furiously trying to keep up until finally, he couldn't take the incessant back and forth.

“Stop! If you two are so adamant about what ted wants” he glares at them, it's their turn to remain silent, to watch the be-speckled boy fearful “Then you plan his birthday party!” his voice hitches, he feels heat rise throughout him, as his eyes threaten soft tears. “Because clearly, I don't know anything.” They stare, eyes softening “Excuse me” he mumbles, pushing past them, disappearing back into the halls. Paul and Bill watch him go before turning to each other

“I think that went pretty well” Paul chirped, Bill thought for a moment but ultimately agreed. “I was thinking, a night out bowling, but we rent out the entire place” Paul suggests, Bill lights up.

“That’s wonderful! The entire cast can be there, except Sam probably” Bill decides, Paul nods eyes wide. They continue talking down the hall suggesting idea after idea.

~~~

“And then he just gave us total control!” Paul chimes, Emma stops as they walk home. Bill and Charlotte following behind. Much to Paul’s disappointment, Emma let’s go of his hand, Charlotte joins her. “What..?”

“You guys! That was not nice” she chides, they share a confused glance, Charlotte folds her arms “You have to include him”

“But he let us, he told us that we could do it” Paul argues, Emma sighs rubbing the beige of her nose. Bill, though being incredibly smart, was being incredibly clueless.

“Yeah, and we know what to do. We’ve been planning each other’s parties for years” Bill adds, Emma understood this. Charlotte and she had always done the same, but things change.

“So I’m not allowed to help Bill and Ted plan your birthday?” She asks, Paul furrows his brows confused once more. “Look, I know that it’s always been the three amigos but things change. You have to accept that Tommy is a big part of Ted’s life now.” She pokes Paul’s chest “You have to include him because he might not know small things here and there, but neither do I! There’s loads I still don’t know about you, Matthews. But Ted loves Tommy, vice versa, and he should be apart of the process” Emma explains, Charlotte's nods approvingly. “Plus this way he gets to learn more about Ted, and isn’t that a fun idea. It sounds stupid but I would give anything to spend two hours with Bill and Ted and learn more about you from and friends perspective” Bill sighs, he has a lot he would say.

“You make some excellent points” Paul notes, he extends his hand out to her, she hesitates before taking it. “kiss?” He asks softly

“Only if you call Tommy and apologize,” Emma says, she perks up “You can call him when we get to my house,” Paul nods. The group was spending the evening at Emma’s for studying, but also just to be there. Charlotte and Paul wouldn’t tell them why, but she needed people right now. ”Or since he’s coming over you can tell him in person, either one, no kisses until you do” she decides, Bill and Charlotte chuckle behind them as Paul pouts. “Come on, it's getting cold and I'm not wearing the right clothes for that” She drags him along, followed briskly by Bill and Charlotte. The walk isn't too long and they reach Emma’s house quickly. She opens the door calling out for her mother or father, none of which reply.

“House to yourself?” Charlotte inquires, placing the jackets neatly on the rack. She had been here many a time, it was practically her second home. Emma nods turning on the lights “Do we wanna set up here, or up in your room?” Charlotte asks, putting her bag down. Emma looks around deciding her room might be too cramped.

“Here is fine” So they gather around the coffee table setting up on the couches, floor, and chairs. Emma grabs some chips and cut up fruit and brings it. She grabs everyone a drink before taking her place on the couch, next to Bill. “Hey B, what time do the terrible T’s get here?” Emma asks, Charlotte smiles, Paul snickers. Bill puts down the notebook he was working on checking his watch.

“Should be here soon” He responds “Slight traffic, oh! And they have to leave early, dinner with Tommy's parents or something” Bil adds, Paul, nods curious. Emma scrunches her eyebrows, pursing her lips. She doesn't want to say anything but alas.

“Tommy's parents? As in the parents who didn't come to the play? As in the ones who, from what Ted has told us, isn't Tommys biggest supporter?”

“Those are the ones!” Ted swings the door open followed by a shy Tommy. He throws his bag down joining the group, Charlotte gives him a small wave. Emma darts her eyes away from Tommy, feeling her face heat up. Ted sits on the floor next to Paul, setting his things up on the coffee table. Tommy joins soon after, sitting politely in the chair behind him. “What are we studying?” Ted asks, Paul shows him the notebook and they continue on their own. Emma glances at Tommy. He sits tensely in the chair, staring the ground.

“I didn't mean anything, Tommy...I'm sorry” She mumbles, Tommy perks up, a smile crossing his face.

“Oh don't worry! I understand they aren't that bad though” He explains, Emma smiles before nodding. They return to their work a group conversation beginning, Tommy kicks Ted softly getting his attention. Ted turns looking up.

“Yes?” He asks forcing  smile, Tommy giggles back.

“Whatcha working on?” Ted looks back at his work showing him the notebook. Tommy nods writing something down “Ok when you're done with that, want to work on our ceramics project?” Ted nods turning back to his work. Charlotte and Tommy start-up an enthusiastic conversation, Emma focuses on Paul now. She follows Tommy's lead, balling up a small piece of paper aiming for him. He jumps, confusion riddling his face, he looks towards Emma. She gestures her head towards Tommy, he sighs mouthing the word ‘now?’. Emma nods, he grumbles.

“Heeeeeey Tommy” Paul starts, everyone pauses looking at him. That doesn't make his task any easier “I was wondering If I could talk to you…in private?” His voice is slow and forced. Ted glances between them before smirking.

“Please don't make out with my boyfriend Paul, I really like him” Ted mocks, Emma and Charlotte laugh. Tommy flicks the back of his head, as Paul flushes bright red.

“Yeah, Paul don’t do that, I like you too, it’d be a shame to have to find another boyfriend” Emma comments barely looking up from her paper. Paul groans, Emma and Ted share an air high five.

“Why do you assume I want to make out with him? What if he wants to make out with me?” Paul asks defensively, Ted purses his lips, but it doesn't help. The group erupts into laughter, knocking over supplies and school stuff.

“You're a riot Paul” Ted recovers shaking his head. He continues writing in his notebook, looking over his material. Paul pleads at Tommy who nods resolved, he leans forward kissing Ted on the forehead before following Paul out of the room. After a swift kick from Charlotte, Bill bounces up following them. Ted eyes the girls, who just smile. “Um...ok?” He says, he looks between them but nothing comes of it. The three of them continue working, Ted occasionally glances up at where the three boys had gone. After a while they return, their faces unreadable.

“Wow you were not wrong, Tommy is a good kisser” Paul teases, taking his place next to Ted. He clutches his pencil tightly, glaring at his friend. Emma snickers, but a pit of fear does form in the very bottom of her stomach.

“Not funneh!” He mocks, Paul smirks. Tommy and Bill roll their eyes returning to their own work. Emma and Paul have one of their famous telekinetic conversations.

“How did it go?” Emma asks raising her brows at him

“Mac and Cheese” He smiles back. Emma groans, ok so not so famous. The group continues working, trading works, grouping up, getting slightly off-topic sometimes. It started getting dark and the energy of the room had slowed, Charlotte had finished most of her work and was helping Paul. Bill and Emma were working on their Health homework. Tommy was doing his best to help a very tired Ted with his own homework. The doorbell rang causing them to jump. Tommy begins packing up his stuff, Ted follows.

“That would be us” Ted informs, He zips up his bag standing. “Dad is picking us up and dropping us off at the restaurant..” Tommy nods. Charlotte gives them both quick hugs, and after a chorus of farewells, the pair leaves. The rest of the night goes smoothly, with everyone leaving one by one. Bill goes first, promptly followed by Paul and finally Charlotte.

~~~

“Is it hot in here, am I sweating? Feel my forehead” Ted rushes shoving his hot face into Tommy's eyesight. Tommy chuckles pushing him back slightly. He frantically wipes his head, watching droplets of sweat flying through the car. Tommy shoves down a gag, before taking his admittedly sweaty hands.

“Dearest, I am not feeling your head,” He tells him, Ted nods.

“Fair enough,” He says understandably. Tommy smiles, squeezing his boyfriends hands gently.

“You'll be ok, they're not that mean” Tommy reassures, the car stops. Tommy looks to the front seat, Chad smiles politely waving goodbye as the boys get out of the car. Tommy forgot how extravagant his parents could be. The restaurant looked like a palace from the outside, shining with life, music flooding through the doors. A red carpet placed neatly in front of the main entrance, two guards stood on either the golden cord. Ted took Tommy's hand, leading him up to them. Once they assured them they had reservations they walked in, if you thought the outside was beautiful. Tommy could see Ted's jaw drop as they stepped into the ballroom. High ceilings decorated with various religious paintings, chandeliers hung from everywhere they could fit. Tables were placed neatly around, people buzzing with life in the golden room. The carpet was soft, detailed with small flowers. Waiters dances left and right serving everyone, people laughed and cheered. Tommy sighed, grabbing Ted's hand leading him over to where his parents were. Ted marveled as Tommy dragged him along, his eyes glazing over with every new detail he noticed.

“Tommy dear!” Raina squealed standing from her chair embracing the young boy. Ted returned his attention to the situation. Raina hugged him as well before taking her seat. Tommy's parents didn't stand, in fact, they made no notice of him until he sat down and they looked up from their phones.

“Oh, I thought you were the waiter, hello son” Tommy's father greeted, he shut off his phone pacing it delicately on the desk. Ted sat in the middle of Raina and Tommy, he felt Tommy grab his hand hidden under the table. He looked up to find Tommy forcing a polite smile, he sighed sadly, tonight was going to be rough. Who Ted presumed was Tommy's mother looked up, following her husband's example. Tommy smiled at them.

“You look ridiculous, stop slouching and adjust your glasses” His mother commented, Tommy did just that, his smile disappearing. Ted squeezed harder, releasing after receiving a quick pained glance from Tommy. He didn't mean to, but everything coming out of their mouths was not helping Ted's previous judgments about them. Raina cleared her throat, smiling sweetly at Ted. “Who is this?” His mother asked, eyeing Ted finally. His father did the same, Ted squirmed in his chair as their intent eyes examined him. Tommy began picking at his chair, avoiding their gaze. Ted took a breath before sitting up.

“I'm his friend” He stated, Tommy looked down ashamed. “Ted Hidgens” he introduced, reaching his hand across the table. Tommy's mother shook it, followed by his father. Their expressions remained the same.

“I'm Teagen and this is Tommy's father Eric” His mother greeted, he nodded giving a polite smile. Maybe I'm making progress…

“Oh Teagan dear, Tommy was just wonderful in the show” Raina burts, Teagan looked to her mother, her face questionable. “Oh and Ted here is in it too! They were both wonderful, they still have a few shows left you should go seem them” She suggested, the boys look gratefully at her. Teagan shook her head.

“I already told you and Tommy that I wasn't available” Eric nodded, looking over his menu. “How is school going?” She asked turning back towards Tommy. He swallowed, looking up slightly. His mouth moved, as he went over his grades and classes in his head.

“I have all A’s in my studies” He informed, hoping his answer proved satisfactory. Ted smiled at him, he felt a sense of pride wash over him, Tommy was really smart. Eric let out a small breath, Ted waited for their congratulations or celebration but they simply sat. Tommy himself looked almost hopeful, but he knew better.

“No girlfriend yet?” Eric moved on, Ted blinked wondering if he really just heard that. Tommy slumped, the wishfulness draining out of him. His father looked up and gestured “What? Am I not allowed to ask? We were hoping you would bring your girlfriend tonight…” He looked over at Ted “Not some friend”. Tommy swore he could feel himself shrink. Ted was fuming now, he grabbed onto the menu hoping for a distraction.

“Dad, I've told you a million times” Tommy began, his words were tired “I dont...like girls in that way” He glanced awkwardly at Ted. Ted gave him a loving smile from behind the menu, if that's what the night needed to be successful, hidden glances and stolen smiles, then so be it. Teagan scoffed, sipping her water. Ted looked over at Raina who might be fuming harder then he was.

“So Ted, what about you?” Eric asked he lowered his menu folding his arms out in front of him. Ted folded his own menu, staring awkwardly at him. “How is your school life? Any girlfriends?”

“Uh...I'm doing ok…” He admitted, he wasn't the best student but he managed “An A, mostly B’s, maybe one C” He recounted, Teagan set her cup down looking as though she had seen a ghost. Eric shook his head, biting his lips. He carried on, he had a lot to say, Tommy waited. No sir, I have no girlfriends…” I mean, I'm not lying. Ted wished he had bitten his tongue, just stopped talking, but alas the boy was stubborn all the same. “I do have a boyfriend though” Tommy's eyes grew wide, Eric choked back his drink.

“What kind of parents let you fail so miserably,” Eric asked, his question wasn't malicious (In that sense, it was absolutely cruel) But it was a genuine question. Ted tried his hardest not to yell, Tommy met his hand once more under the table rubbing his comfortingly. “Your mother is clearly a failure, and your father is clearly not strict enough” He was plenty strict, Ted thought. Tommy let out a soft gasp.

“Dad stop!” He whispered over the table. Eric shrugged, but he wasn't done. Though afraid by Ted's revelation, and relieved he hadn't mentioned Tommy's name, he wasn't going to play along.  

“I guess your parents just let you do whatever you want huh? Your mom buys you ice cream’ Stop “Gives you hugs whenever you do something even slightly right” Stop...Ted kept his eyes fixated on Eric, Tommy looked fearful “Does she hold you when you're sad?” Ted shut his eyes, Eric chuckled clearly victorious. “What a failure of a mother” Teagan nodded in agreement.

“Stop it!” Tommy burst, Ted looked up at him. “You are monsters!” His voice was still quiet but he was angry, Ted felt Raina put a comforting arm around him. “Ted's mother died! And she was a wonderful woman, who supported her son no matter what!” Eric and Teagan watched him horrified “And you knew this because I told you but because you refuse to listen to a word that comes out of my mouth…” He trails off, small tears fall from his face. Ted takes his hand squeezing it, Tommy nods gratefully, and so so sorry. “And Ted is wonderful, he's being raised by two amazing men-” Teagan gasps slightly as if the information could kill her. “That's right mom, surprise two men can be a relationship! Oh but you know what, maybe you were right” He says pondering mockingly, he feels overwhelmed by everything crashing down on him, Ted watches fearfully. “I mean maybe parents who are gay will turn their kids gay” Ted couldn't help but snicker, he clasps a hand over his mouth knowing exactly where this was going. “Ted's bisexual mom! Oh and fun fact, I'm the boyfriend, ooo! Plot twist” Teagans eyes grew wide, her face reaching a new level of pale, as though she might faint “Or maybe your wrong because I like boys mom and you aren't gay are you? So if anyone has failed as parents here it's you two” he accuses, Eric's eyes release an uncontrollable amount of fury. Raina claps her hands together smiling proudly at her grandson.

Or at least that's what Tommy wishes he would have said. But instead he watched as Ted suffered silently, too scared to move and all he did was hold his hand.

“Guys, can we stop please?” He asked softly, Ted remained still, it hurt Tommy the most. He wasn't expecting Tommy to say anything or do anything. Ted was willing to sit there and be torn apart, bit by bit, in the hopes of preserving any slimmer of a relationship between Tommy and his parents. And Tommy was letting him, all he did was cowardly ask them to stop.

“You will absolutely stop” Raina seethed, the group turned to her, she had her eyes fixated on Eric and Teage, a fit of familiar anger burning through her. “You haven't seen your son in months, you don't see his show, you don't recognize his intelligence, you tear down his lovely friend, insulting his mother who has passed away and has the nerve to insult him without giving him a chance to respond?” Ted feels his stomach seize as the parents look at him. He thinks he almost sees them soften. “I have had it, you will either learn to behave like proper adults and parents or I am walking out of this restaurant, taking these two with me and we will get some ice cream” She proposes, Tommy and Ted hope she can their grateful looks. Teagan and Eric stay silent, shocked by her outburst but too stubborn to even try.

“Fine take them, what do I care?” Teagan waved them off.

“Yes, I don't think I want to eat dinner with…” He eyed Ted, as though he were an infectious disease “That” That was correct, Tommy had enough. He slammed down his menu standing up, Raina followed, Ted did the same. They began to make their way out but Tommy couldn't do it, not yet. He walked back over, looked at his parents in their eyes.

“Teds my boyfriend,” He told them, he turned without giving them a chance to respond. Proudly taking Ted's hand, they walked out of the restaurant. Instantly, regret and shame and fear-filled Tommy.

What have I done?

[turtle-steverogers]

Chaotic Neutral

ok so i was gonna write literal angst but then saph and i got on a tangent and this was born so take this Fruity Pebbles+Walgreens crack hybrid

warnings: stab wounds

ship: ralbert

editing: no

“Can you drive me to Walgreens?” Albert asked as he walked out of his room, looking slightly disheveled as he walked out of his and Race’s shared bedroom.  

Race glanced up from his place at the kitchen counter, chewing absentmindedly on the eraser of his pencil, “Why?”

Albert shrugged, padding over in his fuzzy socks to lean across the counter, blocking Race from his physics homework, “We’re outta fruity pebbles.”

Race rolled his eyes, “Planning to get high soon?”

Albert shook his head, “No, but I’m thinking of it right now, so I wanna get ‘em while they’re on my mind, ‘cause I’ll forget otherwise,” He paused for a moment, lost in memory, “And you remember what happened the last time I didn’t have fruity pebbles when the munchies hit.”

A dark look washed over Race’s face, “Oh, I remember alright,” he rubbed his elbow subconsciously, “I still have the scar.”

Albert clicked his tongue, “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.  Anyway, can ya bring me?”

“Sorry, babe,” Race said, shoving Albert off his textbook, “I gotta finish this, but feel free to take my keys if you wanna just take yourself.”

Albert pouted for a moment, “Fine, but it’s no fun without you.”

Race didn’t grace him with pity as he focused back in on his assignment, “Suffer.”

Albert huffed again, “Ugh, okay, I’ll be back.”

“Pick me up some lactaid,” Race called as Albert shoved his socked feet into a pair of Race’s slides.

“Yep,” Albert shouted over his shoulder as he left the apartment, making his way down to Race’s car.  

What should have been a ten minute ride turned into twenty five minutes due to traffic, but eventually Albert arrived at the Walgreens off campus.  He trudged inside, hyper aware of the fact that he looked like some sort of college student-hobo hybrid with his bright red fuzzy socks and slightly-too-small sweatshirt.  

He scanned the cereal aisles, letting out a quiet, ‘aha’, as he located the fruity pebbles, taking several off of the shelf to stock up.  Frantic whispers from the aisle beside him piqued his curiosity and he shifted closer in order to listen.  He couldn’t make out what the voices were saying, but in his peripheral, he could see two rather burly men huddled against the wall, shoving armfuls of varying items into one of their backpacks.  Blanching as he realized what was happening, Albert considered his options.  He could casually slip out of the aisle and pretend he never saw anything, or-

“Hey,” He heard himself bark, instantly regretting his decision as the two men’s heads whipped up, fury and confusion glinting in their eyes, “What do you think you’re doing?” Albert bit his tongue, willing himself to shut up as the guys processed his words.

Albert took an involuntary step back as one of the two men crossed over to him, “You didn’t see nothin’, princess,” He snarled, the smell of cigarettes hot on his breath, “Move it along and no one gets hurt.”

Albert couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his throat, “Wow, real threatening,” he drawled, “I feel so threatened right now.  C’mon, shoplifting a Walgreens?  Seriously?  I mean-”

He cut himself off with a gasp as he felt a sharp, almost nauseating pain grip his gut.  He looked down, open-mouthed in shock as he watched the knife the guy had stabbed into him leave his body.  

A wave of dizziness washed over him as his knees buckled and he managed weakly, “There are security cameras, you know.”

The men exchanged alarmed glances, before stumbling around each other to grab the backpack.

“Yeah, bet you didn’t think of that,” Albert managed around the ever growing pain in his abdomen, “Dummies.” he added for good measure.

The men ran out of the aisle, only to be stopped by one of the employees, who must have heard the commotion.  Or seen Albert get stabbed on the security footage.  Albert didn’t have the energy to question which.  He rested his head on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes briefly, before standing up.

“Sir, I don’t think-” He hadn’t even noticed the other store clerk, hovering worriedly near him.  

He waved a hand, cutting her off, “S’fine,” he mumbled, “I’ll be chill.”

“An ambulance is on its way-”

“Where’s your first aid aisle?” Albert asked, pitching to the side slightly.

The clerk raised her eyebrows, “Excuse me?”

“You’re first aid stuff, like, band-aids and shit.”

“Sir, I-”

“Ma’am, please,” Albert groaned, “This ain’t my first rodeo, I’m fine, just tell me where the goddamn bandages are.”

The clerk looked taken aback, but she pointed to an aisle diagonal from the one they were in nonetheless, “Uh, that one.”

“Thanks,” Albert mumbled, turning and staggering towards the first aid materials.  He blearily squinted at the shelves, haphazardly plucking a few bandage packs, as well as some gauze pads from the wall.  He grabbed a bottle of antiseptic from one of the higher shelves, then sat himself down on the carpeted floor and lifted his shirt, working with shaky hands to inspect the stab wound.  It was fairly deep considering and blood was flowing out weakly with each beat of his heart.  If he were in a better state, he probably would have been freaked out by the image.  Instead, he clumsily tore off a chunk of his already ripped t-shirt and soaked it in some of the antiseptic.

He gingerly pressed the cloth to the wound, hissing in pain as the alcohol sent a stinging jolt through his body, making his head light.  

Diligently, he cleaned away the blood, then dressed the wound using gauze and bandages, wrapping tightly to ensure the blood would clot.  After taking a few steadying breaths, he stood up and pulled a crumpled twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, crossing back over to the store clerk who had been watching him in awed horror.  

He handed her the twenty, then stooped down to pick up one of the fallen boxes of fruity pebbles, “Hope that covers everything I used,” he slurred, “Take care.”

He could hear various sirens outside and decided to slip out the side door to avoid any paramedics who might see him in his bloodied state.  He hailed a cab, ignoring the frightened stare of the driver as he rattled off his and Race’s address.  He zoned out during the ride, only realizing they had arrived when the driver called back to him, demanding his payment.  Albert tipped a little extra after discovering the blood stain he’d left on the seat, then made his way up to the apartment.  

Realizing belatedly that he’d left his apartment key in Race’s car, which was still in the Walgreens parking lot, he knocked weakly on the door.

Race appeared a moment later, eyes widening as he looked over his boyfriend, “Albert, what the fuck.”

“I got m’fruity pebbles,” Albert said, smiling.  

Race shook his head, dumbfounded, “What the hell happened to you- fuck.” He grunted as Albert jerked forward, collapsing unceremoniously into Race’s arms.  Race grimaced, hoisting Albert’s arm around his shoulder and leading him to the couch, carefully laying him down the length of the cushions.

Albert leaned to the side, the pain finally catching up to him as he gagged, vomit forcing its way up his throat.  Race stepped back as Albert threw up onto the ground, blood intermixing with his sick.

“Albert, Jesus,” Race murmured, worry creasing his eyebrows.

“S’fine,” Albert croaked, gesturing to the bandage around his stomach, “I handled it.”

“Clearly not,” Race said, voice cracking as he frantically waved his hand towards the bloody vomit, “What happened?  Actually, nevermind, I don’t wanna know until we get you fixed up.”

“I am fixed up.”

“Properly fixed up, you dumbass ginger fool.”

“Race, Racer,” Albert reached out a hand, latching onto Race’s pant leg.

Race bent down, carding a hand through his boyfriend’s hair, “Yes, love?”

“Are there munchies in heaven, do you think?”

Race blinked, “My god, you’re an idiot.  Hospital time, let’s go.”

XXX

“So, let me get this straight,” Race leaned back in the crappy plastic chair he was sitting in, studying Albert as he lay in a hospital bed, finally stable, “You saw some guys shoplifting, so you called them out, then challenged them, then got stabbed, then sassed some poor store clerk, then fucking yeeted over to the first aid aisle, tried to treat yourself, then dipped before an ambulance could get to you?”

Albert bit his lip, “Uh, yeah, basically.”

“Jesus Christ, Albert, you coulda gotten yourself legitimately killed.  I mean, good on you for stopping a robbery, but next time an ambulance is called for you, fucking take up that offer, okay?”

Albert groaned, slumping down into his pillows, “But I was fine, Racer!”

“No, you weren’t!  You needed a blood transfusion, Albert!”  Race closed his eyes, emotion rising in his throat, “Listen, it was really fucking scary seeing you bleeding out on our couch and I really don’t know what I’d do if you were to like, literally die or something, so for the love of god, use your singular fucking brain cell and take care of yourself next time, okay?”

Albert softened, guilt spreading through his body, “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Race stood, walking over to Albert and leaning down to hug him, “It’s okay, I just worry.”

“I know you do,”  Albert said, burying his nose in his boyfriend’s hair, “I appreciate your care.”

“I love you, bitchass, you know that?”

“I do,” Albert smiled, “I love you, too,” a pause, “Race, you didn’t happen to bring-”

“Planned ahead,” Race said, pulling the box of fruity pebbles from under his chair.

“I fucking stan you so hard what the fuck.”

“I...stan you, too?”

“You better,” Albert said through a mouth of cereal, “I’m wonderful.”

“Uh huh, sure.”

-

jfc someone literally tell me how al is still alive at this point

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[wrightworthmakesmylifeworthwhile]

fantasy au shit

ok so to celebrate 1000 followers im posting more of this fantasy au shit i posted the first part at like 400 followers so if you haven’t read it part one here

Consciousness dawned sluggishly, resting on Phoenix like a thin blanket. As he peacefully grew more and more aware, he could hear a faint voice quietly chanting over him. Another few seconds, and he could understand the words.

“Revera, revera…” A woman’s voice intoned, using a spell Phoenix recognized to slowly revive him.

Unfortunately, the world was not so patient. “Hey! Spikey-guy! Wake up!” Another voice screamed into his ear.

Phoenix jerked awake. He nearly bumped heads with the person who had screamed. She was a teenager, no more than seventeen, with black hair bundled into a little topknot.

“Maya, stop that.” Mia chided from nearby. The baker looked to pinpoint where the woman was, in the process recognizing the inside of his own house.

How did I get here? How did they get here?

The leader, the one who had been chanting, leaned down to look over him. “How are you, Phoenix?”

“I… I'm not alright!” The baker could still feel a burn in his chest, ruling out the possibility of the events before being a dream. He didn't dare to look at the heart shaped mark the pendant left. It would surely scar.

“Dollie hurt me! Why would she do that?” Phoenix searched for answers in the leader’s face. “ Wh-Why would she hurt me?”

He could feel treacherous tears welling up, and turned away before the others could see them fall.

The leader sighed heavily. “...It isn't your fault. If anything, it's ours. Dahlia Hawthorne is an estranged member of the Fey clan. Throughout the years, there have been many of us who have used their powers for nefarious purposes. Dahlia was one of those, and after much deliberation the clan agreed to take her powers away. Her magic was stored in the bottle of that necklace,” she gestured at Phoenix’s burn.

“Dahlia would only ever be able to have her powers return if the necklace was given to her voluntarily by someone not in the family.” The woman met Phoenix’s eyes. “...I guess she talked you into doing that?”

The baker nodded miserably. That does make this my fault.

“Um, Mystic Misty?” A quiet voice piped up “I brought the object that you wanted…” The speaker was a tiny, seven year old girl with mousy brown hair twisted into strange loops. She held a candlestick.

“Thank you, Pearly.” The leader, Misty, took the candle from her, and little girl retreated.  “Phoenix, do you mind giving us some light?”

“What?” Phoenix pushed away his tears. “Oh. R-Right.” He touched the candle and closed his eyes. He frowned.

The flicker of fire on his fingertips that had come to him so easily throughout his life was nowhere to be found. No matter how hard he strained, he couldn’t produce any fire. “I can't!”

“I was afraid of this.” This time, it was Mia who spoke. “You're cursed.”

“C-Cursed?”

“Dahlia couldn't take revenge on those who took her powers away from her, so she did the next best thing she could; she stole away your magic powers. Do you remember her casting any spells like that?”

I can't use magic, I can't use magic… The loud, destabilizing mantra rang around in Phoenix’s head, making it hard to think.

“Of course not.” The baker chuckled in disbelief. “There has to be some mistake! She can't take away my powers! That's dark magic!”

“Dahlia’s not the person that you thought she was, I'm afraid,” Misty said grimly.

Everything slowed. He could feel the blood rushing through his ears, the thoughts swirling in his head. What am I supposed to do without magic? It's all I've had. It's everything I've worked for! What about my family line? What about my business? I’ve never had to bake without magic! If I can't bake… if I'm not a mage, what am I?

“I have to have magic! I’ve just got to!”

Mia’s surprisingly sympathetic voice cut through his panicky haze. “Phoenix. Think back. Try to remember what she said to you. Did she say there a way to reverse this?”

The ex-mage took a deep breath. He tried to focus. “Uh. She did say something… b-but I don't remember what! Oh Dollieeee!” This time, the tears did spill over, flooding down his cheeks.

Mia’s sigh sounded suspiciously close to “of course.”

“We’ll have to figure it out together. You're our responsibility now,” Misty said.

“What?” Maya squawked. She fell off the foot of Phoenix’s bed with a loud thud, startling Phoenix. He'd forgotten the girl was there.

Pearl directed an inquisitive look at Misty, gnawing on her thumbnail.

Phoenix sniffled pathetically. “Really?”

“Really?” Mia said flatly.

Misty nodded. “I'm sorry, Phoenix. Dahlia has already been on our radar for years. If we had been more careful, this could have all been prevented. This is a Fey matter. You never should have gotten caught up in it at all.”

The ex-mage gaped, wiping his runny nose on the hem of his sleeve.

“We’re honor bound to help you get your powers back.” Misty bowed.

Mia groaned quietly.

“This is going to take forever!” Maya hopped up from the floor. “No offense,” she added, glancing at Phoenix.

Just because you say that, doesn't mean that the hurt goes away...

Pearl didn't say anything at all. She stared at Phoenix as if his soul was laid bare before her. It was kind of unnerving, really.

The leader huffed. “It won't take that long. We keep the most of our powerful magical artifacts stored in the castle. Odds are one of them will have a solution to your little dilemma.”

“In the…” Phoenix blinked and wiped away the last of his tears. “Wait, does that mean…”

Misty grinned cheekily at him, “Ever been inside the King’s castle?”

The Kingdom did not have the most fanciful of castles. Quite the opposite. Very much like the King himself, the castle was square, robust, and practical. That was where the similarities ended. The castle was otherwise unremarkable. Gregory Edgeworth, by contrast, was remarkable among rulers: known throughout the realm as a just leader who cared about his subjects.

Despite Phoenix living only half a day’s travel away from the castle and having seen the King on public occasions, it had never been in an individual setting. It was fair to say that Phoenix was a tiny bit nervous.

Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…! What do I say to him? What do I do? I've got to bow, right? But how low? What are the Feys going to do? Maybe I can do what they do?

“Hold,” Misty called, putting her hand up. The Feys stopped. Phoenix bumped into Pearl.

In front of the leader was a stony lamp post. It held no light and seemed to serve no purpose. The only out-of-the-ordinary thing about it was a swirling mark with a star on it etched in the stone at about chest height. A rune.

Misty traced the spiraled rune with a finger. Sparks flew up in the wake of her fingertip. There was a grinding sound and all of a sudden, the drawbridge of the castle was down.

Misty turned and met eyes with Phoenix, grinning. “I always love that part.”

The Feys turned and started to cross the drawbridge as if nothing unusual had happened at all. Mouth hanging open, Phoenix looked at the castle with new respect. Clearly there was more than met the eye.

Briefly, he tried to run his finger over the rune in a vain hope, but nothing happened. Phoenix hurried to catch up with the others on the bridge.

By the time he had drawn even with the Feys, the King had already arrived. Gregory’s countenance brightened upon seeing the company. He strode over to them, stopping just short of the eldest Fey.

“Misty,” he greeted with a genuine smile, unlike any Phoenix had ever seen. “It's been far too long.”

“I agree,” Misty hummed, eyes alight with amusement.

The two stood looking at one another for another moment before Misty broke and launched herself at the King in a hug, laughing.

“I missed you, you cretin.” Misty pecked Gregory’s cheek quickly.

Phoenix's jaw dropped. Did she just call the King a cretin? And kissed him? Does she want to get herself killed?

To his endless astonishment, King Gregory didn't even slightly mad. If anything, the man was flustered.

“...I’m glad to see you too.” The King managed at last. “You didn’t write. How long do you think you'll be staying?”

“Probably not very long, unfortunately. We’re here because we have a little situation to fix.” Misty glanced over at Phoenix.

One of Phoenix’s hands entangled itself in the hair on the nape of his neck as the King’s full attention turned to him. Gregory seemed just as uncomfortable as he did at having been seen in a moment of unprofessionalism.

“Ah. Of course,” the King cleared his throat. “I wish you luck with your… situation.”

“Thanks, Your Majesty,” Phoenix grinned sheepishly. I can’t believe I’m talking to the King of the whole realm! “I really appreciat-”

“That reminds me,” Clearly Mia didn’t realize what a big moment this was for him. “We should get started. The sooner we fix this mess, the sooner we can catch Dahlia.”

“Dahlia?” King Gregory’s tone was one of worried surprise.

“I’ll explain it all later,” Misty promised.

“Sis’ got a good point! Let’s go use Nick as a spell-dummy!” Maya grabbed Phoenix by the arm and started to tug him across the courtyard.

Spell-dummy? “Wait, no!”

“We’re not going to do it like that, Maya.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Nice to see you again, Sir King Gregory!” Pearl chirped.

The King smiled gently, kneeling down to her height. “It’s very nice to see you as well, Pearly. I’ll dispatch a messenger to tell you three when dinner is ready.”

“Thank you!” The little girl turned and skipped after the playfully quibbling sisters and the protesting Phoenix.

The afternoon went by quicker than Phoenix could imagine. At first, he couldn’t help but be stunned by the castle’s immense collection of magical objects. But eventually, even the most legendary of artifacts seemed to blur together as Mia, Maya, and Pearl all took turns harnessing the power of ancient potions, rings, goblets, hourglasses, statuettes, scepters, mirrors, and tomes in an attempt to cure him. More than once Mia had to reverse a carelessly cast spell (usually one of Maya’s) to ensure that something didn’t go horribly wrong. 

”Hey, this one says it can turn anything into ash!” Maya held up a crystal skull with far too much eagerness. Phoenix’s stomach turned.

Pearls bit her thumb, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” She already had her hands full healing a welt on Phoenix’s arm from another one of Maya’s “good ideas.”

“He’s called Phoenix,” Maya shrugged. “I dunno, maybe he has to be turned into ash for the rebirth of his magic powers or whatever.”

“No.” Mia vetoed, not bothering to look up from her tome.

Thank you.

Grumbling, Maya turned away, making as if to put the skull away. But at the last minute she whirled around and cast a nasty-looking spell straight at Phoenix. The baker shoved Pearls out of the way, then jumped hard right to dodge it. Behind him, where the spell hit, a shelf of important looking magical texts started turning to ash before their eyes.

“Look. Are you sure there even is a cure?” Phoenix said, panting and doubled over his knees.

“Of course. Any magic that’s done...” Mia strode forward and, with the wave of her hand, returned the texts to their original form. She gave Maya a meaningful glance. “Must also be able to be undone.”

But after another few hours upon hours of spell upon spell with no results, all four of them were beginning to get tired and discouraged.

“I knew Dahlia was a feared mage, but I had no idea how powerful her dark magic was,” Mia muttered to herself.

Evening fell outside the castle windows and the group had to abandon their task halfway through for dinner. As they made their way down a winding staircase, Phoenix felt a tiny hand touch his back.

“Don’t worry, Sir Nick,” Pearl said. Although Maya’s nickname for him had taken off, the girl felt a need to add a level of respect to it. “I’m sure we’ll find out how to fix you!”

“Thanks, Pearls,” Phoenix muttered, feeling vaguely humiliated that he had to be reassured by a seven-year-old.

The four emerged into the large arched dining hall. There was one very long banquet table with only a few seats. On the table Phoenix was shocked to see that there wasn't much food.

Really, he wasn't sure what he was expecting. Probably plates filled with more mouth-watering meats than a butcher’s shop, delicate little sugary cakes and pies, and exotic spices that cost more than his entire home. For a castle, this banquet was shockingly ordinary.

Maya noticed his confusion. “The King said something about not wanting to live a life of plenty while some peasants live out there with so little. Y’know.”

“It's about class in-ee-qual-itty,” Pearls bit her thumbnail.

King Gregory himself was at the head of the table, an empty chair on his right and Misty on his left. The others Feys started to file into their seats. Phoenix followed suit, and found himself sandwiched between Maya and Pearl, sitting across from a strange man that he didn’t know.

“Oh, there you are! Any results?” Misty called out to them.

“Nothing’s working yet,” Mia said, sounding as dismayed as Phoenix looked.

Gregory frowned in sympathy, “I’m sure there’s a cure somewhere in there.”

“We’ve collected hundreds of magical artifacts over the years,” Misty chimed in.

“Yeah, and we’ve blown through half of them in one afternoon!” Maya said, sneaking a bite before she was supposed to.

“That still means there’s half of them to go!” Pearl chirped, far more optimistically.

I hope you’re right, Pearls.

Silence fell over the table as they waited for the last member to join them, and fill in the empty seat so they could begin the meal. Maya smuggled a few more furtive bites before Mia nudged her.

“He’s late,” the strange man across from Phoenix barked, breaking the silence.

“I’m sure the Prince is busy attending to his duties.” King Gregory said.

Before the man had a chance to respond with something nasty, the King continued. “Phoenix, I suppose you haven’t met. This is Manfred von Karma, the my advisor and second-in-command.”

Phoenix studied the Royal Advisor. He was an older man in a jeweled robe with long white hair. His face was etched in a permanent scowl.

“...Nice to meet you,” Phoenix lied.

Manfred’s eyes narrowed at him. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“Uh, I—”

“I’m sorry I’m late.” A younger man swept into the room, closing the door behind him with a loud thud. He wore a red tunic with interwoven with an elaborate gold design. He bore an air of regality, and his prematurely gray hair just added to his distinguished aura. Phoenix knew immediately that this must be the Crown Prince.

“I was reading,” Prince Miles said. He took his place on his father’s right. He met Phoenix’s eyes and smiled at him.

“Reading what?” King Gregory sounded excited. Everyone at the table started to eat.

“Hmph! You let this boy get away with far too much, Your Majesty.”

Prince Miles’ attention swiveled. “Sir Manfred,” he greeted diplomatically. “If you're dining with us tonight, that must mean you have some news.”

“Fantastic. Just what I want to talk about at the dinner table. Politics,” Misty groused.

The King squeezed her hand and smiled apologetically. “It won't take long, dear.”

Manfred cleared his throat, rather self-importantly, Phoenix thought. “Yes. I come bearing news from the south-east.” He leaned forward, as if he was sharing a secret. “Your Majesty, there was another attack. They suspect the cause was rooted in magical extremism.”

Mia snorted with derision.

“Those damned mages have been at it for weeks! I recommend military action, Your Majesty. They must be stopped before they wipe the rest of us out!” Phoenix jumped as Manfred slammed his fist on the table to illustrate his point.

King Gregory looked uncomfortable. “My guards are stretched too thin right now to even consider military action. And, please, Manfred, I ask that you keep present company in mind when you talk about issues of magic.”

The mood at the table had shifted. Pearls and Maya picked at her food, keeping their heads ducked down. Mia was openly disgusted, and though Misty seemed more composed, her eyes were blazing.

“Of course. I apologize for my insensitivity.” He seemed more satisfied than sorry. “I am merely saying that there are some dangerous people out there. We need to take action soon so we don't find ourselves regretting inaction later.”

“Have you possibly considered,” Mia cut in, voice dripping with irritation, “that vilifying an entire group for the actions of a few is not only baseless fear-mongering, but also completely counterproductive and stupid.”

“...I have a headstrong daughter as well,” Manfred said in a deceitfully calm voice. He turned to look at Misty. “The difference is that I taught her respect.”

“Learn some yourself,” Mia snapped. “Excuse me.” She stood from the table and stormed off.

Wow.

Misty took a sip of her wine, but Phoenix swore he saw her grinning behind her goblet.

Not to be outdone, Manfred stood up and strode out of the room.

Those that remained at the table were silent for an unbearably lengthy moment.

Maya sprang up and hastily began stuffing rolls into her hood. “Well, looks like dinner’s over! Let’s go, Pearly!” She grabbed her cousin’s hand and practically sprinted from the room.

King Gregory blinked. The poor man had been caught in the middle of cutting his steak and been stuck that way for some time. “I suppose she's right. It does appear that dinner is over.” He set down his utensils, suddenly looking very old and tired. “I'm inclined to agree with her. Magic has been a huge asset to this kingdom, and making broad generalizations rarely does anyone any good. ...But that’s a discussion for another time. I’m going to retire for the evening. Good night, everyone.”

Misty followed him out, leaving Phoenix all alone with Prince Miles.

I wonder what he thinks of all this.

Phoenix studied the Prince’s face, but it was unreadable.

“...You must be Phoenix Wright.”

“That’s Wright,” Phoenix said immediately. He mentally kicked himself right after the words left his mouth. Stars, Phoenix! He’s a prince! You can’t just say stupid things like that to a prince!

Prince Miles frowned, “That was bad.”

Phoenix laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, desperately trying to alleviate his own idiocy. “Good thing I’m not a court jester, huh?”

“I don’t think you’d last very long in the profession.” He smiled and gave Phoenix a short bow. “My name is Miles Edgeworth. I’m prince of the realm.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Your Highness!” Phoenix stumbled over himself to bow in return. Prince Miles steadied him.

“There’s no need for that. Call me Miles. You’re our guest here. Ah, speaking of that...” The Prince trailed off, looking awkward. “You’ve come at a bit of a bad time. The Feys already occupy most of our guest rooms, and our last remaining one is under renovation. You’re to room with me. I’m hoping that’s not an issue...”

“Y-You would just let me—”

Prince Miles looked away, “It’s not ideal, but it isn’t completely unheard of. Mystic Misty and my father frequently share a chamber in order to leave other rooms free.”

Phoenix nodded quickly. “It’s not an issue for me.”

Silence lingered for a beat. The Prince’s gaze lingered on Phoenix’s face, expression still inscrutable. Finally, he seemed to realize that it was his turn to say something.

“Ah! But I’m being a poor host.“ Prince Miles coughed into his fist. “Would you like to see the royal gardens?“

Me, in the royal gardens?

“I’d love to!“

“Fantastic. I’ll show you the way then.” Prince Miles pushed open a door that lead outside, leaving Phoenix to follow.

Outside, evening had fallen and the stars shone bright overhead. Everything was quiet as the two walked through the castle's’ garden. Waist-high, neatly-trimmed hedges lined the path, interspersed with brightly colored flowerbeds. Magnificent trees with purple leaves looked on in the background.

Prince Miles kept walking, but Phoenix lagged behind, trying to take it all in.

“These gardens are gorgeous!”

“Thank you.”

“...Is dinner always that crazy?”

“Not typically. When Manfred is over, though...” The Prince paused, waiting for him to catch up.

Phoenix snorted. “He seems like a real piece of work.”

“He can be harsh, but he’s a brilliant man. That’s why Father keeps him around,” Prince Miles crossed his arms defensively. “He’s taught me a lot.”

“Sorry.” Phoenix wasn’t, really, but he didn’t need to go out of his way to insult the Prince’s tutor. Maybe there was more to the old coot than he knew.

Prince Miles unfolded his arms and looked curiously at Phoenix for a long moment. “Not that it’s any of my business, but what exactly is it that you do for a living?”

I can’t say I’m a mage. Not anymore.

“Oh, um, I’m just a baker.”

“I have to wonder,” The Prince said, glancing sidelong at Phoenix. They walked by a golden statue of a hooded woman bearing a seven pronged sword. “We’re not hiring at the moment. What’s a baker doing here at the castle?”

That’s really not something I want to get into.

“Sorry, but that’s on a knead-to-dough basis.”

Prince Miles groaned. There was a long pause, then, tentatively, the prince ventured, “That was a… crumby joke.”

Coming from the always-serious Prince, the pun surprised Phoenix. He burst into laughter. Prince Miles laughed too, albeit much quieter. He quickly coughed to try and cover it up. Phoenix wished he wouldn’t. His laugh was probably the best thing Phoenix had ever heard.

They fell silent as they reached the end of small garden, basking in the glow of the other’s presence. Phoenix followed as the Prince started to climb a grand, double-sided staircase.

“Miles, what were you reading earlier?” Phoenix asked.

“I’m sorry?”

“The book that made you late to dinner. Must’ve been interesting. What was it?” Phoenix rambled, “Y’know, maybe I’ve read it or something.”

“You’re literate?”

“Hey, you don’t need to sound so surprised!”

Prince Miles huffed, flustered. “Well, it’s not as if most people are.”

“Yeah, well, I need to be. How else would I know how to...” learn new spells and read tomes. “read recipes,” Phoenix finished rather lamely.

“Of course.” The Prince sighed, “If you must know, it was about government. The delicacies of running a country.”

“It must be a lot of pressure.” Phoenix frowned sympathetically. Just thinking about all those people relying on you... And he’s my age!

He shook his head in wonderment. “Candidly, I don’t know how my father handles it.”

“Sounds like you really admire him.”

“My father is a great leader. I have a lot to learn from him.” A light had sparked in the Prince’s already stunning gray eyes.

Phoenix smiled warmly at him. “For what it’s worth, I think you’ll do a great job.”

You seem like a good man. Just like your father.

Prince Miles’ cheeks turned pink. He muttered a “thank you” before hastily turning back towards the castle doors.

“W-We should head back inside. It’s getting late.”

Before following him, the baker turned to look back at the other wing of the castle. In the moonlight Phoenix could see Misty and King Gregory standing close together up on the balcony of the castle’s main tower. They looked happy.

[jeffatk1ns]

Glass Shards - Zach Dempsey x Reader

Request - “Could you do an imagine where the reader and Zach get into an argument and then they go to Bryce’s house to hang out with everyone and the reader gets super drunk…”

(Obviously our look into Zach’s home life isn’t majorly in depth, and they probably aren’t like this, but for the purposes of this fic I am making them this way.)
 A loud bang erupted through your room, from you slamming the door.

“Please don’t open that door, Zach.” You shouted at your boyfriend through the other side of the door. But he opened it anyway.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so angry about this? It doesn’t matter.” Zach’s voice was raised.

“It does fucking matter. It does. You weren’t me. You didn’t see the way your mum looked at me as if she’d never seen me in her life. Because she hadn’t! As if I haven’t been your girlfriend for the past THREE MONTHS!” You yelled across at him.

“But I told you! If I told them about you they would make me break up with you!” Pleaded Zach. “I told you it doesn’t matter what they think, I love you, why should they need to know that?”

“Yes. You told me AFTER I made a complete and utter fucking fool of myself at your house. What? Did you just hope your parents would never be in when I came round? Or is that why you only invite me round when no ones there? Oh, how was I so stupid! Of course it was!” You ranted.

“No that’s n-”

“It feels like you don’t give a single shit about me right now. You don’t understand how mortifying that was. ANY kind of preparation for that would’ve helped. But I was bare - you made me feel completely emotionally naked.”

“Y/N- please just listen-”

“Zach, just go.”

“Y/N-”

“I’ll see you at Bryce’s.” You spat, turning from him so he wouldn’t see you cry. You heard him exhale through his nose, and then drag his feet out of your bedroom.

—-

Pulling at your shirt nervously, as you often did, you neared the impressive house before you. After finding out his mother, and consequently entire family, knew nothing of your existence, and then the argument that followed, you were apprehensive to see Zach. This had been your first real fight since you had gotten together, and you were scared. Because although you were extremely mad at him, you didn’t want this to be the end.

You slowly moved your hand to the door knob and exhaled heavily, tonight would be the illuminating moment on whether or not this was it.

The party was alive with the stench of alcohol perforating your nostrils and the close atmosphere closing in on you. You hoped maybe to avoid Zach the whole time, and not have to face whatever was coming. And - you were gonna get absolutely shitfaced.

Because Bryce had only invited the few of you to hang around his, there was A LOT of alcohol to go around, and you were planning to take full advantage of that.

“Hey, Y/N!” Greeted Bryce. “Come in, Zach’s already here.” Clearly Zach hadn’t mentioned what had happened.

The room you entered had a few people sat around the sofa area, and Jess trying to make Justin dance- who was obviously not drunk enough yet.

“Hey.” You walked over to Jess, trying to pretend you had not yet seen Zach, who was sat on the sofa next to Monty.

“Hey there!” She smiled at you. “Come dance! Justin is being such a kill.” She whined at Justin drunkly.

“I will in a bit, I’m going to get a drink first.”

—–

After a few shots of vodka, you started feeling the desired buzz. So you decided to take Jess up on her previous offer, and dance with her. The two of you danced for what felt like hours, swinging your hips and whipping your hair about, not to mention finding everything completely hilarious and doing a few more shots throughout.

You felt a hand on your back as you were pouring yourself a drink. You turned to reveal Zach.

“Y/N, I think you should maybe slow down.” He proposed.

You scoffed. Who did he think he was. “Why the hell should I listen to you?”

“Because I care about you.” He reasoned.

“Bullshit. I can do what I want, Zach.” you countered.

“Im not saying you can’t. I’m saying you’re clearly upset and drinking will only make it worse.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Because I’ve been there. You haven’t- you’re not a drinker. This isn’t you!” He pleaded.

“Honestly just fucking leave me alone. You don’t care enough about me to not be embarrassed by me- so I’ll save you the trouble and ask you to stay away.” You spat.

“I don’t want to stay away, Y/N, you’re not getting this!” He tensed his jaw.

“Zach! Please just fuck off right now?!”

“Fine, maybe I will.” And with that, he backed out the room, with a sad look on his face.

“I should’ve been more prepared for you breaking my heart. Guess I was stupid, as usual.” You said more to yourself.

—–

Later, after what was maybe your eighth shot, you rejoined Jess - only to have your legs betray you, and you fell into a glass cabinet. A big, expensive, breakable glass cabinet.

The following moments were a series of events in quick succession, of which you were unsure due to your intoxication. But what you were sure of, was the feeling of someone’s arms around you. The next thing you noticed was that you were sporting red liquid in some places, which didn’t quite click to you yet as blood, or if It did, you didn’t care enough. And then you realised that a few moments ago someone had been shouting your name. Zach was carrying you in his arms outside somewhere. You were too drunk to protest, so you let him take you into the empty summerhouse and lay you onto to sofa. Then he perched beside you.

“Y/N…” he groaned at your silliness. “How do you feel?”

“Okay, what are you doing?” You slurred in response.

“Cleaning you up. Falling into a large glass surface can cause problems.” He chuckled .

“Oh no…Bryce…expensive…”

“Fuck Bryce. He can afford another. I care way more about you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and opened up the first aid kit he must’ve grabbed on the way out. Looking down at your hands as Zach made movements towards them, you noticed just how much blood was spilling out of your right palm and screamed in shock.

“Shh, it’s okay, Y/N. You used that hand to break your fall, so it’s worse off than the rest of you.” He gently held it in his hand, palm up, before soaking some kind of alcohol solution on it. You winced at the pain, but it was muted due to the alcohol you’d consumed. You wouldn’t like to imagine how this would feel sober. The alcohol solution cleared any excess blood, leaving Zach to see what the hand was really like.

There were a few small lumps of glass, but the injuries themselves were not too bad at all, given the fall.

Zach removed the glass lumps using tweezers, comforting you each time you would wince or jump. He then applied some antiseptic and bandaged around your hand.

“I mean, I’m not saying you could write a symphony or anything on it, but it’s almost as good as new.” He smiled down at you, taking the injured hand into his own and tracing it very gently.

“Thank you, Zach.”

“You’re wasted, im going to get you some water, I’ll be back in a second.” Zach placed your hand on your stomach before leaving the room.

He was true to his word, and it wasn’t long before he had returned.

“Here,” he passed you a glass of water, you took it willingly. After a big gulp, you realised he’d spent a long time here looking after you.

“Why are you helping me? I’ve been horrible tonight.”

“You had good reason. What I did was shit. I’m telling my family that you are my girlfriend and that i love you as soon as I get home, I’m not going to let anything they say stop us from being together - if you’ll still have me?” He smiled nervously at you.

“Of course I will dummy.” You tried to roll your eyes at him. “I obviously was mad, but I didn’t want this to be the end.”

“I think you’re the dummy…” he laughed, taking the fingers of your injured hand into his.

“Kiss me.” You looked up at him through your lashes. He leant down and placed his lips on your forehead gently.

“When you’ve sobered up.” He explained, playing with a strand of your hair.

“I’m sober!” You sulked, even though you very clearly weren’t.

“Whatever you say Y/N/N.”

—-

One of the pieces Zach had removed from your hand left a scar, leaving a constant reminder for you of a glass shard and the boy you loved.