#hes all hung up about the prank but the funniest thing is

[computerpeople]

hes being overly nice though in this au which is bizarre. hes trying to be a people pleaser but he's also doing to to deflect a lot, and avoid talking about himself. asks people a ton of questions about themselves, boosts them up, tries to get them to like him without revealing like ANYthing about himself. josh baby its okay literally everyone in the server your age has killed someone

[fishys-still-writing-smut]

(Maybe a bit too much complex ? You’ll tell me)

Kaede had enough~! Ever since kokichi somehow convinced tsumugi AND the headmaster that his new uniform should be a ultra lewd playboy bunny costumes that accentuates way too much his twink but ultra cute yet strong body, his immense boy butt, and his crotch! Not only that but he’s been bothering everyone! The number of spanks he gave to the other fat ass femboy (Shuichi) friend of Kaede that embarass him on a daily basis, the way he sometime gets behind Kaede and "hug" her pressing her (admitedly massive even if hidden behind a sweater) boobs, the time he mixt an aphrodisiac in everyone’s water just before an exam!… she will convince him to end his lewd pranks! … what the naive ultra thicc bimbo bod pianist didn’t realized was that 1) it was kokichi, a VERY good manipulator especially for airheads like Kaede 2) is lust is way bigger than that~

Basically they make a deal that he stops bothering everyone IF she hangs with him every day and "play" with him every night for a week~!

Basically a 7 day/step corruption, at the end Kaede is completely kokichi’s bimbo bitch, she gets sluttier as the corruption progress, and they do lewder and lewder acts.

I don’t remember but I Think NTR is one of your top stuff, so you can put some here BUT it has to end well, like Shuichi being also a fat ass ultra hung twink just way more submissive than kokichi, so under kokichi impulse and manipulation he joins at some point. (Or not)

If a 7 part corruption is too complicated for you you can tone it done to 5, 3, or heck even 1 and turning it into an instant lost if you’re not in the mood for that, it’s fine!

Warning: lewd content below

Day 0:

“So you gotta let him sleep in your room for a week?” Shuichi questioned his best friend as they were having breakfast together in his room. The pianist nodded, seemingly frustrated at the situation. “I mean hey, if it gets him to change out of the playboy bunny clothes can't be that bad, right?”

“Of course it's that bad! It's about the principal of the matter, Shuichi! That little bastard can't keep doing whatever the hell he wants. I swear, after these 7 days I'm putting in a notice for him to be suspended.” Kaede was fuming. Shuichi had never heard the blonde so angry before. He placed his hand on her shoulder to help calm her down, a gesture she seemed to appreciate as she began to smile. It was just one week, how bad could it be?

Day 1:

“So how was last night?” Shuichi questioned Kaede, who blushed at the mere mention of the night before.

“Ah well, y'know.” Kaede seemed embarrassed. “I think I was a little too harsh on him.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “I thought he was gonna prank me or do something weird to me, but no. All he did was sleep normally. In fact, I was being a jerk to him, making fun of his night terrors and all.”

“Night terrors?” Shuichi questioned. He never heard Kokichi bring up those before.

“Yeah, they're pretty bad. Normally he clings onto a big stuffed animal or something to help calm him down, but there wasn't anything like that in my room. So he just clung into me.” Shuichi was about to raise an objection, but Kaede cut him off before he could get the words out. “But he wasn't being mean! He didn't play any pranks or pull any cheap tricks. He just…hugged me tightly. It was…I dunno, nice I guess? Still don't like him, but it was refreshing to see a human side to him.”

 

“Maybe that's why he wanted to sleep in your room? To find a way to tell you.”

“Maybe.” Kaede thought, reflecting on last night. Until suddenly, her face became beet red as she remembered something else. “But uhh, the funniest thing happened while we were sleeping. Apparently, I need new pajamas, because the buttons totally busted while we were sleeping. So I woke up to find Kokichi motorboating my boobs, hahaha….” Kaede sheepishly recalled as both she and Shuichi felt the embarrassment.

“Y-yeah that's…certainly awkward.”

“Y-yup, what are the chances, right?”

Day 2:

Shuichi and Kaede ate breakfast together in silence. Normally there'd be a lively conversation between the two of them, but for some reason Kaede was dead silent. Shuichi, sensing something was wrong, tried to break the ice. 

“Soooo…how’s been sleeping with Koki-”

“I saw him jerk off yesterday.” 

“H-HUH?!?!” Shuichi nearly fell out of his chair upon hearing what she said. He grabbed his own seat as he stared at her with intensity. “What the hell are you saying?!?”

“I-it wasn't on purpose!” She defended. “I guess he just…forgot to lock the bathroom door. I-I only saw it for a second though. After that I ran to the bed and pretended nothing happened.” Shuichi sighed in relief, grateful his friend wasn't a complete degenerate. Kaede sighed as well, for an entirely different reason.

(Flashback)

“Nnnnnghhh!” 

“H-hey!” Kaede opened the bathroom door to find Kokichi jerking himself off. However, before she could reprimand him, he finished, shooting his thick semen which splashed directly into her pajamas, face, and of course, her bare tits that her broken pajamas failed to cover. 

“Don't blame me, I need to do this. My nightmares get reeeaaalllly bad if I don't empty my balls before bed.” Kokichi nonchalantly explained. Kaede merely humphed at his response, before her eyes widened. He still wasn't flaccid. Kokichi smirked. “Yeah, typically one nut doesn't do it for me. I need to go for a whiiiiile.” 

“T-that’s nice, but w-what am I going to do?” Kaede angrily complained, as her and her clothes were still soaked in Kokichi's cum.

“Go shower. Don't worry, I won't peek. I'll just be dealing with this before bed.” Kokichi spoke slyly. “Unless you want me to jerk off on your bed instead?”

Kaede balled her fists before stripping out of her now ruined clothes. Kokichi was going to pay for this. She stood naked in front of the boy, who stared at her while he jerked off. Something about him looking at her with such list driven eyes while touching his big…no! Not today.

Kaede practically ran into the shower and drew the curtains. She turned on the hot water and worked to scrub all of Kokichi off of her. She stared at his silhouette through the curtains. He kept true to his word and did not peek but…did his dick really need to be that big?

That night, a naked Kaede slept with Kokichi. He clung to her chest seemingly tighter than the night before. She huffed. He was so getting reported after the week was over. She just needed to remain pure until then.

Day 3:

“We're not going to eat together anymore?” Shuichi repeated dumbly, confused by Kaede's sudden change of heart. “Why? Not that I'm mad but, weren't you the one who wanted to eat in my room with me?” 

“I-its not you! It's just…Kokichi had methods to help him mitigate his nightmares and…he wants me to help him with them during the morning.” Kaede sheepishly admitted. “S-so I'll be doing that now. But only for the next few days! After that he gets suspended and we'll go back to normal.”

“Well, you're your own person so, can't really fault you for that. Just, try not to take him too seriously. He may have issues, but he's still a jackass at heart.” The boy swore uncharacteristically. Not that Shuichi disliked Kokichi (okay, he definitely did), but even he could see that something fishy was happening. Kaede nodded her head before digging back into her food. She ate with her hands, which was a fine but a little messy cause of the sauce-

Wait a minute.

“Kaede, there's something on your hands.” He pointed out while Kaede froze. “It seems like some type of…white liquid?” 

“A-ah! Yeah, that's just…white sauce from last night.”

“Last night!?! What on earth did you do then!?”

“W-well Kokichi asked me to jerk his…j-jerk his…jerk his bottle of white sauce! He was trying to have some last night and the bottle wasn't dispensing it, and I guess some got on me without realizing it.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense.” Shuichi realized. I mean, there wasn't anything else that could be on her fingers, right? “Was the bottle broken or something?”

“N-no, it was just…really big. A lot bigger than you’d think. I mean I saw it before and I was like ‘wow’ but once it's in your hands it's even more like…‘wow!’. Can't believe he just has that. And it was so messy too. Like he could've been a gentleman and offered to clean me up but noooo. He even seemed to like it when it got on my face and chest. Ugh! He's the worst. He even got some in my mouth.”

“Did it taste good?”

“H-huh?!?”

“The white sauce.” Shuichi explained. “I heard some recipes even include things like eggplant or heavy cream depending on the purpose. So, was it good?” 

“O-oh, uhm. I-it was whatever I guess.” Kaede blushed, but Shuichi knew her for too long for her to hide things from him. He chuckled to himself. She definitely loved it. 

Day 4:

“Hey Kaede!” Shuichi called out to his friend in the hallway. Kaede jumped a bit, before quickly waving back at Shuichi. She pulled down the hem of her skirt as the boy ran up to her. 

“Hey Shuichi…how's it going?”

“Eh, the usual I guess. How about you? Kokichi any easier to manage?” 

“O-oh!” Kaede's expression changed when Shuichi brought up Kokichi's name. She rubbed her thighs against each other and blushed. She broke eye contact with Shuichi and stared at the ground, trying to recall…something. Her face grew even more red before she answered. “W-well to tell the truth he's been a bit…wild as of late. He's been keeping me up super later into the night with his…before bedtime habits. I get he has issues sleeping without it but…fuck.~”

“H-huh?” Shuichi gasped at Kaede's uncharacteristic swear/moan. Kaede clapped her mouth shut before responding.

“S-sorry, I've just been really tired as of late because of him. Don't even have control over myself anymore…hahaha.” Kaede's statement was more accurate than Shuichi or even herself could've known. But to quickly cut off a curious Shuichi, she removed herself from the conversation. “I need to go, Ko-i m-mean Ms. Kirigiri needs me for some help. Bye Shuichi!” 

“That was weird.” Shuichi spoke to himself as his friend ran off. “I get that she's tired, but who moans when they don't get enough sleep? Oh well, I mean, all ultimates are a bit eccentric so I guess it's not the weirdest thing that's happened here.” 

Day 5:

“Heeeeey Shumai!” Kokichi called out to Shuichi this time, as they were the only two in the dorm room lobby. They rarely speak, but for some reason, Kokichi is convinced that he and Shuichi “have a lot more in common than he knows.” 

“What's up Kokichi?”

“Noooothing much. Just looking to have some dude time. A true man to man talk. A bro-down hoedown. A slightly homo rodeo. A-”

“Just say what's on your mind.” Shuichi sighed, already exhausted before the conversation even began. 

“I'm just trying to act like dudes with you man. I feel like we lack that strong male bond between us. Talking about cars, screaming about sports, acting only a little gay in the locker room, bragging about not sex partners, the complete guy package.” 

“I don't want your package Kokichi.”

“Pffft, nonsense! You just haven't had proper guy time with me yet. Check this out~.” Kokichi shows a video of what looks like a blonde babe bent over, getting fucked by a shocking large cock. She was completely naked, aside from the pair of white panties pushed to the side of her phat jiggly ass. Her face wasn't visible, but a muffled voice could vaguely be made out, screaming Kokichi's name like a pornstar. 

“K-kokichi! Is…is this real?” Shuichi asked, curiosity and lust getting the better of him. 

“Of course it is! I really lucked out finding a girl like this. She was a little reluctant at first, but she ended up being a bonafide slut! I knew I picked right with her.”

“Who is she?” 

“Hey, Shuichi, if we're going to be bros that means you gotta respect the bro code. You can't ask me things like that.” Annoyingly Kokichi stood up with a cheeky grin. It was obvious from the start he only wanted to tease Shuichi using this information. “I'll see you later, Shumai! Let's have some more bro time later, okay?” 

Day 6:

“And then he says he was looking forward to spending more ‘bro time’ with me. Can you believe that?” Shuichi ranted about Kokichi to Kaede, who was busy looking under the desk for the pencil that she dropped at the start of class. He conveniently left out the part about the pornography he was shown, as he still had fantasies about that mysterious blonde woman.

“Ah, well, I don't think Master was in the wrong there.” 

“Huh?” 

“I said I don't think Kokichi was in the wrong there. She responded, not bothering to get up from looking. “I think you just need to be more open to him.”

“Yeah right, he's a complete- KAEDE!” Shuichi was caught off guard, nearly getting the two caught in the middle of class. For the first time he looked down to talk to Kaede, however while he did expect to find her still searching for her pencil, he never thought he'd see her bare ass! “W-where the hell are your panties?!?” 

“Oh, those. Kokichi and I were talking the other day, and he brought up the point on how tight my panties must feel, and told me to start going without them. And I feel much, much better. See.” Kaede stood up, and without a hint of shame, flicked up her skirt for Shuichi to get a face full of her phat ass. 

“K-Kaede. Put that down. He's just trying to trick you!” Shuichi pulled her skirt back down to normal, causing the pianist to pout.

“Trick me? Why would he do that? I think you're the one that’s tricked Shuichi. You don't understand why I love Master the way I do.”

“What on earth are you- wait….” Shuichi paused to think for a moment. The video, Kaede's attitude, Kokichi sleeping with her. It was technically possible, but did he really manage to-

His train of thought was cut off as Kaede scotched closer to him, rubbing his cock with her fingers as she whispered in his ear. “Master ordered me to take care of you, so he's willing to share his toys with you if you don't talk. What do you say, Shumai?~”

Day 7:

“GLUK GLUK GLUK”

“F-fuck.” Shuichi moaned as Kaede sucked his cock. She looked up at him with mini hearts in her eyes, her brain completely rotted by sex. Behind her, Kokichi spread her ass cheeks apart, sliding in his giant bitch corrupting cock inside of her. She moaned into Shuichi’s dick, sucking it even harder now that she was being fucked from behind. 

“I told you Shumai, you and I should definitely spend more time together. After all, we have so much in common~.” Immediately after his taunt, Kokichi and Shuichi came inside of Kaede, filling up their shared pocket slut together.

[annoyingbelieverballoon]

Hi. I have a welcome home request. Y/n is helping Barnaby with his new act, reacting and giving feedback.

Barnaby’s great acts (platonic/romantic)

(mostly platonic but you can interpret the scene however you’d like)

word count: 535

Barnaby, the funniest neighbour in Welcome Home, was always a fun, friendly puppet to be around.

Everyone loved his jokes, his skits, his whips, and his pranks, but he also took part in helping whenever he could and was a good teacher of EQ and understanding aspirations and dreams, and so on.

A fan favourite for a lot of kids growing up watching the show, and now that you’re in it well, he’s also still your favourite.

How could you not love this big blue dog and his silly antics?

Knowing Barnaby in person shed a lot of light on who he was truly; behind this persona who seemingly perfected the act of comedy was someone who had spent hours practicing lines, tones, accents, and various stunts so that he could pull them off and make the others smile, chuckle, or laugh.

And here you are in Barnaby’s blue dog house. Inside were a plethora of decorations that eluded to jokes Barnaby could make. On his walls hung multiple portraits of him and his mother. The chicken who crossed the road

"Are you still listening, little buddy?” Barnaby clapped his paws together and chuckled.

"Maybe you spent too much time with Starlet; you’ve got your head in the clouds, bud."

You chuckle sheepishly and pay full attention to Barnaby; he’s been trying to get you to laugh at the jokes for almost an hour now.

"I know you say these jokes are good, but sheesh, not a single laugh out of you yet... Tough crowd, I must say.” Barnaby scratched the back of his head.

"Maybe we skip the one-liners and start acting, yeah?

This was a cue from Barnaby that he was going to show you his next big act he had in store, or at least a variation of it. He always changes things at the last second to make them funnier and more unexpected, and to also make them fit the event better.

This act was a bit different than most; however, you don’t see Barnaby riding a unicycle, juggling six water balloons, and playing the kazoo all at once every day.

It seemed he was setting himself up for a slip and fall with all that was going on, but spectacularly, he kept on going. It was astonishing to see, and although you were worried for your big dog friend, you started cheering him on as he did his incredible act.

Once he was done, he allowed the water balloons to fall freely, drenching the both of you. You laugh heartily and watch as Barnaby gets on all fours and starts shaking his fur, getting water droplets everywhere.

"So how’d you rate it out of ten?” Barnaby gives you an expectant look, like one a husky would give after catching the ball and bringing it back successfully.

"A 10 for spectacularity; Julie would love it." 

Barnaby laughed and put his hands up in a hoop. 

"How about we dry off a little before continuing your acts? I feel cold," you said, shivering a little.

"Of course, buddy! I've got to be the most hydrating comedian after all." 

You chuckle and follow Barnaby to get a towel and perhaps some spare clothes.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (Continued)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings: drinking mention, is period mention a thing?

a/n: sorry if i broke anyones heart on my last hc, heres some things i forgot to add in my headcanons for all u avid dad!tony readers

prompt: this ones all over the place, just some random things to read while u recover xx, it’s not very long (which is good bc those long posts i wrote were making my app glitch), it’s not great, but its here

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) The Aftermath (4)

y/n literally cannot stop doing peace signs, she saw her dad do it once when she was a kid and now she does it without even realizing

she was in the bathroom when tony got called “tony stank” and now everyone calls her “y/n stank” at random and it makes her mad bc no one will explain the inside joke

after tony died, peter texted her almost every day to check up on her

there are billionaire daddy/daughter dances, the starks were in attendance (until y/n deemed herself “too old” for them at age 11)

sometimes y/n would take over the shop and blast her dad’s music, getting really into it. tony would take a few moments to watch the prodigy he couldn’t believe he created

birthday parties were always a treat, especially after the avengers joined your family

also tony snuck you drinks every once and a while

“tony, she’s just a kid! don’t give her that” -steve

“my daughter, my rules, sucker!!”

when you were working in the shop, it wasn’t uncommon for you to hurt yourself

and tony would always patch you up, whether you needed bandages, ice, or just a kiss to make it better

pulling all-nighters on inventions

(sorry if this one makes you uncomfortable?) having to go to pepper when you had your first period

“JARVIS, can you call pepper for me? it’s an emergency”

“emergency? should i call the paramedics?”

“NO!”

she also took you bra shopping and you kept making boob jokes

“you really are your father’s daughter”

tony tried to give you a curfew for iron-mech things, but it didn’t last very long

you didn’t listen much, now tony knew how his father felt

dad jokes that make you cringe

“did you know the first french fries weren't actually cooked in france? They were cooked in greece”

*on the verge of tears* “please stop”

pepper loved getting pictures of you guys together

especially the ones of you guys passed out after an eager session of work

high-fives, so many of them

you have exactly one picture of the entire ironfam together (tony, you, pepper, happy, rhodey) and it’s hung up on your wall

you had a lot of nightmares as a kid, he had a baby monitor protocol programmed into JARVIS that alerted him when you woke up from a bad dream

posing for the paparazzi with your dad just for shits and giggles

the infamous Repulsor Misfire(tm) after a bad upgrade, it ended in two smashed windows, a medium-sized fire, and a hilarious security recording that tony had saved to his phone, not one of your prouder moments

you used to sneak up on the avengers and take selfies with them, some are priceless

your lockscreen is a picture of you and your dad making “hulk faces”

when you were a kid, you rode on tony’s shoulders for hours

he took you to disney world a handful of times (what? he could afford it)

being two engineers/mechanics, you guys needed a lot of lotion, (i cant stop picturing this) so you or tony would randomly pull out lotion and offer it to others before putting it on simultaneously

pulling pranks on rhodey

your personal favorite was the confetti cannons

“god, i could barely deal with one stark, but two? they might as well dig my grave”

sometimes it was just your job to embarrass each other in front of coworkers

“yeah, when y/n was little she was afraid of the monster in her closet, she thought cookie monster was going to eat her” (a/n: this is from experience dont @ me)

“when i was a kid i walked away from my dad when he wasn’t paying attention because i wanted a snack and i couldn’t find him when i came back. i went to investigate a while later and he was crying in the corner because he thought he lost me. almost ordered an AMBER alert because he left the front door open on accident”

your dad literally loved you so much

“where are you going?”

“out”

“can i ask where?”

“no”

“dont get all snippy with me!”

“i’ll be as snippy as i want to be!”

“oh, no, you wont!”

“watch me!”

^sometimes you guys got into some comical arguments

you were just trying to keep tradition alive and buy him another funny tie

tony has seen security footage of you doing various dumb things (that he is also guilty of) and asking you about it later

“hey, mini me, get your ass down here!”

“yeah, dad?”

“what is this?”

“uh...surprise? we need a new window!”

and there have been a few weird times he’s grabbed both your cheeks and stared at you

“hi dad?”

“i’m very lucky that your mean old mom let me have you, you turned out perfectly”

one father’s day you bought a card that had nothing to do with father’s day and crossed a bunch of stuff out with sharpie

he thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen

its on his desk now

(you get happy father’s day gift’s, too. he gets choked up every time)

you guys remember how clint was holding those drumsticks in aou? yeah, tony has drums and the two of you take turns going wild on them

the anniversary of your grandparents death is always a weird day, sometimes your dad is perfectly fine, and sometimes you have to give him some space

tony celebrated your birthday the 5 years you were gone

“happy birthday, sweetie. i love you”

when you met morgan, you saw a part of your father in her

now it was your job to protect her, for tony

[elentary]

Black as the devil, pure as an angel

Happy 31st Good Omens anniversary! (i’m late as usual)

A little story about Aziraphale and Crowley popped up in my head and I tried to write it down. 

This is my first story and my first language is not English (so don’t expect a masterpiece out of this): any correction or comment will be appreciated!

(All material related to Good Omens is the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.)

Black as the devil, pure as an angel

London, Monday, 10th May 2021

"Hey, this is Antony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style"

-biiiiiiip-

"Ah, hello, it's me… ...Aziraphale! Well, ehm, it's been a while since we spoke and I suppose you're still sleeping in this moment because you aren't answering the phone. I just hope you aren't sleeping on the ceiling or on the walls: I'm pretty confident to say that's not comfortable for your backbone and I know for sure you have a perfect soft bed in your room. Also, last time I saw you up there, I almost had a heart-attack and I'd like to avoid it, even if I'm sure I can't die of that since I'm not human, but… ...oh, I wandered off too much with this!

Ehm, I called to inform you that lately the situation here in London seems to have improved and, since some restrictions have been lifted, I thought we could maybe meet again when you'll wake up: my bookshop will be open just for you at every hour! 

 Oh, don't worry if you'll be a bit sleepy: I'll prepare my special qahwah (kahve/caffè) in a jiffy! Well, it's not so special, it's just an old recipe I learnt because… ...oh, not that, it's a secr…. ehm, it's not important at all!

I… I… hope to see you soon, my chuck-… my dear!"

Aziraphale hung up the phone and started fidgeting with his golden ring almost immediately: "I shouldn't have called him: it didn't go how I planned", he muttered to himself. Unsurprising, the phrase "it went down like a lead balloon" popped up immediately in his head.

He had been rehearsing the call for ten days, preparing himself for every possible scenario, but in the end he went completely off-script after a few words, letting his emotions spill too much in his tone. 

But what worried him the most was the moment he let slip the words "old recipe" from his mouth: not for the recipe per se, but because of the little secret behind it. 

"I'm quite sure - he said out loud using a hopeful tone to calm himself - I was able to stop in time, thanks goodness! I’m sure that he won't ask anything even if Crowley notices something, because he'll think there is just a boring story behind it".

While he was heading for the kitchenette to make a cup of tea (there is no problem that couldn't be fixed with a good cuppa), he halted midway and wondered: "Why did I call coffee in that ancient way?"

The reason for that ancient name was very old, pretty much as old as Aziraphale's secret: a little more than four hundred years old.

Venice, 1596

"...and just a cup of qahwah for me" said a guest all clad in black who was slouching on a chair in the most luxurious house of the city. 

The young waiter who was taking the order, looked at him a bit perplexed for the last order. 

"Right, that was Arabic" chuckled Crowley "bring me some kahve or whatever is called here".

"Oh, caffè, here it’s called caffè here, Siór!” [1] , said the young one, ”How much sugar would you like in your cup?” added hasty at the demon's expression.

“I'll have Sade kahve but with a bit of cardamom. Remember to grind finely the beans”.

The waiter was still lost but the other guest at the table helped him with a smile: "He doesn't want any sugar in his caffè, dear" 

“I'll bring everything as soon as possible" said the young man and, after bowing a little, he headed for the counter.

Aziraphale was a bit surprised by what just happened: "It seems you are the meticulous one today: I have almost never seen you so specific with your food or drink order, unless alcohol was involved". He also added: "I just hope you didn't want to mess with the poor waiter".

No, angel, I didn't pull a prank. I have been drinking coffee for a while: but since my last mission in Malta [2] I have been loving it: Altan was the best at making it, but he went to Rome", Crowley said with a sigh.

"The funniest thing - he continued, smiling - is that I was lured to that because I thought it was an alcoholic drink since they called it qahwah, that also means wine. At first I was a bit disappointed but later I discovered it helps to stay awake during boring stuff: it did wonder with every task Hell gives me."

"I tasted some qahwah some times ago but it was too energetic for me… but maybe I should try it to deal with Gabr… ehm, with tedious tasks". Crowley politely didn't mention Aziraphale's little slip but smiled a bit inside.

When the order arrived the angel observed how his partner smelled and tasted happily the concoction humming approvingly: 

"I didn't think you were a coffee connoisseur" Aziraphale joked. 

"It's not so bad for someone with so little experience: you should try it sometimes. If you're done with your food, let's organize our Arrangement. For my report…"

They discussed their work for a couple of hours, drinking coffee. Aziraphale tasted it too (a lot sweeter than the demon) but in the end he still preferred his tea. The angel, however, decided he'd propose another place with coffee, since Crowley enjoyed that drink so much.

Milan, Four years later

"Why can't I have a cup of coffee?" Sulked a very crossed demon who was missing a couple of years of sleep due hellish work. "Lent was over 2 month ago, wasn't it?"

The owner of the shop was distraught: "The priest told us that is not proper now, Sir: the Infidels are using it and - he started whispering - it seems that's a Devil's plant". 

"I'm pretty sure that the Devil wasn't involved in any botanical project, even before Falling, and he has never tried any coffee. Instead, if you are speaking about demons, I am the onl-"

"Why don't we order wine instead this time?" Interrupted quickly Aziraphale before Crowley could say something more compromising. The unhappy demon agreed begrudgingly so several bottles of red wine were shared among them. 

"I'm sorry for your coffee, Crowley. It seems idiotic banning a plant just because somebody else has it".

"Well, they copied the idea from the Boss: God was the first to ban a plant, you and I should remember that easily" Crowley snickered.

Aziraphale started blushing and his cheeks soon were as red as that famous fruit: "ah, it… i-it wasn't just a normal fruit and that was part of God's plan…  I suppose.". That phrase was just commented by the demon with a bemused expression.

"So, Crowley, what are you going to do with this? Are you going to tempt a lot of people to drink coffee?"

"Nah, I'm already too busy with Hell's job at the moment. It would be too troublesome to convince people and especially priests: those at top are the worst."

I'm sure I'll miss the ability of coffee to transform random thoughts into ingenious ideas: humans were experts at using that!" The demon slouched sadly on the chair.

Aziraphale would have missed the improved human genius too but, in his opinion, would have regretted more not seeing his demon's smile but he said nothing. He instead started thinking if there was something he could do and soon became lost in his thoughts.

"...anything there?"

"Sorry, what was that?" 

"I told you I'll go back to Spain tomorrow for a temptation: do you need anything there?" 

"Oh, nothing special, just the usual [3] we can share and those books, if you could be so courteous." Aziraphale happily answered, giving him a neat written list.

"Are you going to stay here long, angel?"

"Oh, no, I'm departing for Rome the day after tomorrow… … I know you don't like it because of the absurd amount of consecrated ground there, you don't need to make a face each time I mention it"

"And every pope makes the problem worse." 

The angel assumed a grim expression: "I have to meet pope Clement VIII for the closing ceremony of the Jubilee"

"You don't seems pleased" 

"The Archangels, especially Sandalphon, think highly of him, but I don't… appreciate him, especially after he burned at the stake messer Giordano Bruno and other poor humans."

Crowley liked discussing the stars and the universe with Giordano: he tried to warn the poor man but he was too stubborn to listen.

"May I reciprocate your favour from Spain? Maybe some wine?" Suggested the angel.

"Only if you're sure the bottles are not blessed - Crowley shuddered - I still remember last time I was wrong".

"Are you sure it will be enough?" 

"I'm sure, angel. Let's party now and forget our troubles for now". 

Unfortunately Aziraphale couldn't party happily because he couldn't forget what happened with the cup of coffee and he thought his favour was too small: he decided he should do something about it! 

Luckily the following morning was more propitious and he found a way to repay Crowly for his favour: he'll find a way to lift the ban on coffee.

The only remaining problem was how to do that.

Rome, a week later

Aziraphale was reading the same line of the missive for the third time in a row at his desk: the angel was too distracted because hadn't found a solution for his "problem" yet. 

"I bet I have the solution under my nose but I can't see it" mumbled the angel touching the pope's sigils on the papers.

"Of course, the pope! - he yelled happily - He is the highest authority for the priests: he could convince everybody that drinking coffee is not bad if he tastes it himself".

"I just need to learn how to make the best coffee ever". A name came back to his mind, the name Crowley gave him: Altan. 

Immediately he used a little miracle to locate him that led him to a small cemetery outside the city and on the grave and there were few sweets with a little cup: unfortunately Altan died 10 years before. The angel bowed a little to pay respect. 

A big Turkish man came next to him and inquired "Did you know my father?".

"I didn't but my... acquaintance considered him a genius and was very fond of his qahwa, ehm, kahve. He'll be sad when he'll know he died." 

"I'm Osmanek. May I ask you what brings you here mister...?

"Oh, I'm Aziraphale. I came here to learn how to make the best coffee ever: I hope his art was inherited by you."

"Luckily it was not lost: I loved to help him make coffee. Before revealing my secrets I have a question for you: are you doing this for your… acquaintance?"

Aziraphale nodded: "I'd like to prepare him some coffee he loves, but at the same time I'd love to see everyone have a coffee whenever they fancy, like in your birthplace. To make that possible, however, I have to let somebody else drink your coffee to.. ..to tempt him saying it's not a bad thing: that person is the pope Clement".

The angel knew what he was asking for and couldn't hold the gaze of the man anymore.

"I understand -he continued sadly- if you don't want to help me since I have seen how much that man has been hurting your brothers and sisters…" The angel couldn't say anything else, overpowered by his memories and bowed his head to hide the tears in his eyes: he has seen too many inconceivable deaths in the name of faith

Osmanek observed Aziraphale for a little moment: he was sure there was no lie in his words. "No, - he smiled - I can't leave you after you poured your heart out: I'll help you and your friend to tempt the Pope." 

"Oh, oh, thank you! - and the angel added hastily - But he's not my friend, we barely know each other!"

The man started smiling brighter than ever and guided him to his house.

Immediately after they arrived, Osmanek offered his guest a cup of his special kahve with few sweets. Aziraphale tried just a sip of coffee and he was immediately in love: "Now I know why Crowley likes it so much: it's so scrumptious even without those sweets!"

"I call this Altan kahve in honour of my father: I will teach you how to prepare it for your fr… aquietance but I ask you to not give any of this to the pope. For him, I'll give you another tasty recipe" 

"Oh, I agree with you: the pope doesn't deserve that perfection!" 

Osmanek patiently taught Aziraphale everything he should know: how to roast and grind the beans, how to use the small pot "cezve", the ratio perfect between coffee and water, how to boil and froth the concoction and  which flavours could be used.

In the beginning everything felt so difficult for Aziraphale and he failed a lot. However the angel was very stubborn and, thanks Osmanek's tips and teaching, he was able to make an excellent cup of coffee in a couple of days.

"I hope this will be good enough" mumbled the angel.

"Trust me, it will be too good for the pope", he chuckled. "Now let's see how good you are with Altan's coffee. I'll give you a final tip: imagine you are preparing some coffee for your acquaintance and not me".

"Why…?"

"If I'm right, it will taste better"

Still perplexed and a bit nervous, Aziraphale went into the kitchen and, following the last advice, he prepared meticulously the dark drink, flavouring with cardamom and finally pouring it in two kahve fincanı, a dark one and a light one. The smell seemed quite promising.

Osmanek took the darkest cup and, after smelling the aroma, he tasted it. After a few seconds, he smiled "In my native Country there is a proverb that says the coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love but for your coffee this doesn't sound right". He put the empty fincanı on the table.

"I think - he continued - the Italian expression suit it better" 

"I'm sorry but I don't know it" the angel was starting to worry he messed up something even if the man was smiling fondly.

"Il caffè deve essere caldo come l'inferno, nero come il diavolo, puro come un angelo e dolce come l'amore.". [4]

The angel took his courage and drank his coffee: in his opinion, it wasn't perfect as Osmanek's but it tasted like something Crowley would enjoy and that was the best feeling ever. 

The angel couldn't stop smiling: "Oh, I am so grateful to you! But I don't know how I can repay you for this"

"Your happiness is enough: I'll bring you everything you need".

Aziraphale didn't agree with him so he performed some miracles and blessings. 

Osmanek came back with some coffee beans, flavours and utensils. There were also three kahve fincanı: two were familiar (the dark and the light ones) but the other was new (and very flashy).

"Oh, that's for the pope: I have always hated that cup and I hope it'll break when that man wants coffee most"

"Oh, that cup will do that, I can assure you" the angel promised with a mischief smile.

Aziraphale finally bid farewell, still thanking Osmanek profusely.

Two months later was the time to put the plan in action: the pope was in the library at 2 a.m. and he was getting tired but he had a lot of work to do. Aziraphale approached him: "I may have the right solution for your Excellency: it's a healthy concoction that promotes wakefulness and wonderful ideas. It was discovered b-"

"I don't care, - interrupted the holy man - give me that drink and let's hope it works".

"God gives me strength" whispered under his breath the angel while preparing some coffee that suited the pope's taste.

When the cup of coffee was ready, it was given to Clement VIII: he grabbed it and started drinking absent-mindedly. The smell and the taste were so good that he woke almost immediately. 

"Librarian, what is this?"

"As I was saying, this is coffee" 

"Why has nobody given me this miraculous drink? The taste is divine and it works perfectly!"

"I suppose nobody wanted to offer your Excellency any drink consumed by Muslims. Some people also believe coffee is a Devil's plant. In my op-"

"I don't care: it's too good to be Satan's plant and we mustn't let the infidels have exclusive use of coffee."

Aziraphale was quite happy: it seemed his plan worked out nicely.

"Maybe we could bless the beans or use some holy wate-"

"NO" shouted the angel, emanating some angelic power unconsciously "Please, DON'T". 

For the first time in his life, the pope was scared he felt like a little child in front of a giant warrior.

"Ehm, please - said more calmly Aziraphale - never suggest it again or let somebody do that. Just tell everyone coffee could be drank by anybody".

The pope could only nod affirmatively.

"Right!" 

Now the angel was sure he was successful in his endeavour and soon could have a coffee with Crowley. 

Aziraphale stayed in Rome for another three weeks, just in time to witness a fincanı to break neatly in two, pouring coffee on some important papal documents.

On his journey to London he stopped to Osmanek's house and updated him on what had happened in that time (especially the broken cup).

London, Monday, 10th May 2021, 30 minutes after Aziraphale's call.

In the end Aziraphale made some of his special coffee with his cezve: he was missing Crowley so much.

"What if i woke him up while he just wanted to sleep a bit more?" 

"No, angel, - a familiar voice answered - I want to stay awake with you for a while"

"Crowley" cheered Aziraphale

"Coffee?"

"In a jiffy" and he poured the drink in two old contrasting kahve fincanı.

"So, what's the secret behind this old recipe?" Crowley asked with a mischievous smile.

----------------------Notes----------------------

[1] Siór = mister (venetian dialect)

[2] Malta = Crowley had been at the great siege of Malta in 1565    https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Siege_of_Malta

[3] Usual = local goodies (especially wine and alcohol)

[4] "Il caffè deve essere caldo come l'inferno, nero come il diavolo, puro come un angelo e dolce come l'amore" = "coffee must be hot as hell, black as the devil, pure as an angel and sweet as love"

To write this I took some info from wikipedia about the history of coffee: if you want to learn something more accurate than my story, look here and here.

[zodi-aries]

Ford done fucked up

It had been three months since Stanley moved out of the shack.

Ford had asked him to come stay with him, feelings of guilt plaguing him after he had left collage. He got lucky when Stan had called and nearly hung up again.

Ford had said he could come stay with him till he was on his feet.

It was barely two weeks when they had their next big fight. Stan had been messing about in the lab and he tried his best not to touch anything. He really did. But one wayward push on his chair knocked over an experiment Ford had been working on. Fiddleford had watched it fall and Stan panicking and trying to clean it up.

Fiddleford tried to calm him down. 'It was an accident, Stan don't worry!'

But Ford had seen and erupted.

'YOU'RE GONNA RUIN MY LAB LIKE YOU DID MY PROJECT!!'

Fiddleford had seen Ford lose his temper before, but this ...this was like something much heavier was meant in that one sentence.

Stan had looked so heartbroken. He sniffled and just got up and silently left the lab.

Fiddleford turn and glared at Stanford, disappointed.

'Was that really necessary?' He asked before charging up the stairs after the younger twin.

He stopped at Stan's bedroom door and heard the quiet sobbing.

Fiddleford didn't come back down to the lab and Ford silently seethed the rest of the evening.

The next day Ford didn't hear any activity from the kitchen when he woke up. No coffee being brewed like Stanley tried to have ready. No breakfast being made. Was Stan still sulking in his room? Ford sighed and trudged upstairs.

'Stanley you can't pull this childi--'

He opened the door to an empty room. Only the bed and it's sheets neatly folded were left. 'S-stan?' Ford called.

He goes back down and looks outside-- Stan's car is gone!

Ford starts ripping through the house thinking this was a terrible prank. Stan getting back at him for yelling at him yesterday and Ford was gonna give his brother a piece of his mind when he finds hi- "Morning Stanferd!" He heard Fiddleford call out.

"Fiddleford!! Stan's missing or he's hiding or pulling some juvenile bullshi--"

"No he ain't. He's stayin' with me at mah hotel..."

Ford froze in his tracks. "What?"

Fiddleford turns back to him with that look all parents get when they're telling a cranky child no. "You seemed pretty angry with him, yesterday. So Stanley decided he was gonna leave. I offered him to stay with me for awhile instead of sleeping in his car like he planned to do."

Ford rolled his eyes. "Of course running off and playing--" His shirt was yanked and he came face to face with an angry Fiddleford.

"Finish that sentence Stanferd Pines and I will end your career and quit this project with you. Stan Pines is alotta things. I know that, he knows that. What he is not is a man who will play at being vulnerable. He fought tooth and nail NOT to stay with me." Fiddleford by this time had let go of Ford's shirt and started taking off his coat. " probably because he wanted no tie to you in anyway. The look I saw on that man's face is that of somebody whose been beaten down so hard and he's too tired to keep tryin to get back up."

At first when Ford had heard that three months ago, he was angrier then ever. Fine let Stan go and stay with Fiddleford. The engineer will see how bad Stan can be and beg Ford to take his bum of a brother back.

.... At least that's what Ford thought was gonna happen. Instead the first month Ford enjoyed having his house to himself again. It was quiet nothing was broken. By the second month he started noticing how quiet his house was without Stanley singing out what he was currently doing.

Or him fixing food in the kitchen.

Even when he came down to bring Ford food or coffee when he was working long hours in the lab. Hell three days went by before he noticed how long he'd been down there.... 'Stan always came to get me and settled me into bed...' Ford thought tiredly one day. Fiddleford had commented. "You look terrible.... Are those the same clothes you wore yesterday?"

"Y-yea ... Stanley was doing the laundry when he was here...."

"Ah ..." Fiddleford just turned to his own work, but seemed to wear a smug grin all day.

The next day, Ford was sitting dazed on his living room couch when he suddenly heard Fiddleford's rumbly old truck come down his driveway. He sat up and looked out the window-- Stanley was in the driver seat! Ford bolted from the couch, straightening himself up before opening the door with an easy grin. Ford knew he couldn't stay away for long.

Fiddleford is stepping out and laughing. He comes around to the driver side.

"Ah ha ha! Well anyway, thanks for letting borrow the truck today. I get out at 5 so I'll be here around 5:30 to come get ya ok? And then I wanna stop off at the hardware store to see what my car needs."

"Don't even worry about it Sugar. I'll see ya later then." Fiddleford says with a smile. Stan gives a shy smile of his own before waving and backing up to head towards town.

He... He didn't even spare Ford a glance?! Ford felt an odd lump in his throat.

Fiddleford came up the porch. "Oh. Morning Stanferd."

"What's .... What's Stan doing driving your truck?"

Fiddlford clicks his teeth and snaps his fingers. "You know it's the /funniest/ thing. His car just didn't wanna start this mornin'! How mysterious is that? A car that's been through hell and back with that man, all of a sudden just doesn't wanna start. Oh well nothing I'm sure a mechanic or ya know, an /engineer/ can't fix." Fiddleford says, that mocking smug smirk on his face the whole time. "So I thought I'd be a gentleman and let Sugar-- opps-- I mean /Stan/, borrow the truck so he could get to work today. And then we'll go shoppin' together later on to fix his car. Pretty sure it's an easy fix."

Ford felt his fingers curl into a fist. "Did you have anything to do with his car having issues?" He asks coldly. Fiddleford turns around, his face in mock shock. "Stanferd Pines! Are you insinuating that I would /DARE/ make a tiny little adjustment to your brother's beloved car just to have him come to me in a panic for me to then offer mah truck as long as he drove me here this morning just for you to see how well Stan is gettin' long without you? Bless your heart, why I am shocked and disappointed you would even suggest such a thing!"

Ford felt his ears turn red. Fiddleford turned away. "Now I believe we've got work to do. And i wanna be done on time I don't wanna keep Sugar-- Ah shoot sorry, Stanley waiting when he comes to pick me up."

[thebiasrekkers]

No Words

Pairing: Taehyung x OC 

Type: Series

Genre: Idol, Poly, Interracial, Tall Female, Smut, Angst, Fluff [if you squint]

Warning: Dirty-ish. 

Words: 1316

---

Seoul.

This last leg of this tour was kicking her ass. She didn't expect to go from intern to production team. She did her job, absorbed everything she could while learning on the fly.

She had been blessed to have the opportunity to get near the boys. Lots of apps, lots of patience on the part of the staff, and a lot of mistranslations later - she was conversational in Korean.

She needed to be as she found herself suddenly in South Korea for a few months. They'd sped through regional tours before going East. She made sure to keep out of the way of the bangtan bomb filming. As long as the cameras were down, it was ok to speak to the staff - and the boys.

And it happened a lot. Especially at the concert wrap when there was meat, soju, booze, and good feelings from a job well done. They'd all return to their hotel rooms to snag whatever amount of sleep before red-eye flights the next day.

Well, this particular evening found her loose-lipped and lighter in her step. She had left her cellphone at the dinner table - or she thought. She called it to see if one of the production team snagged it for her.

"I-I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at dinner. I can come and grab it." It was early in the morning, yet still too early for people to be asleep. There was a husky chuckle that greeted her instead.

"I wondered whose phone this was." Oh, no. The voice on the other end sounded too amused at her mistake. She swallowed thickly as she schooled her voice into something pleasant.

"V-ssi. I am SO sorry. You must be exhausted. I can just get it from you tomorrow." There was a long, tense silence before he spoke. She could hear the smile in his voice.

"No, no. It's ok. I can bring it to you." He sounded as if he was ready to go on an adventure.

"Ah, no! It's fine. Really. You should get some rest!" She could hear the door closing already on his end. He was really coming to her room.

"It's ok, Noona. It'll only take a second." There was that playful, almost child-like demeanor of his. "See you soon." He hung up. He hung up on her, the little shit!

Panic set in as she made her way to the door, maybe she could just meet him in the hallway. She yanked the door open only to slam into him as he reached up to knock. She pinwheeled her arms for a hot second as he reached out to pull her flush to him.

Their eyes met as he waved the phone in his free hand. "I believe this is yours?" She was barefoot, making them just barely eye-level for height.

"A-ah, right. It is." She reached out to grab it as he pulled his hand back. A brow arched as she tilted her head, just so.

"You should respect your elders, V." Her lips pursed as his stare darkened. His fingers splayed against the base of her spine caused her toes to wiggle against the carpet. She was a few years older than all of them. She didn't care about the whole hierarchy thing, but out of respect for her workmates? She adhered to it - if and when told it was required.

"I'm not a kid, you know?" Her lips settled into a flatline. It had been a joke, at first. She had fun thinking of them as dorky little brothers. But, things change when you spend a lot of time around a person. And for some reason? That change had happened with Taehyung.

There they stood, hovering, in her doorway with the rest of the staff most likely heading up for the night. His hand holding the base of her spine. She pressed too tightly to him, looking like a cliche moment out of any drama. "Look, V. It's late can yo-.."

He tilted his head just that scant inch down to her, his brow arched as he held the phone further away from her. "Taehyung," He interrupted her.

"Excuse me?"

"Taehyung."

"I know that's your name."

"So use it."

"What?" Her head tilted as if she needed to clear her ears. "What was that?"

"Don't call me V. Call me Taehyung - use my name."

"Are you serious right now?" She was fighting back irritation.

"Say my name." He shook her phone in her direction. "...and you can have this back." His lips curled up into the faintest of smirks.

"This is no ti-"

"Say my name - or we're both going to have some explaining to do." The devious smile and tone were not to be ignored.

"Fine!" She huffed, rolling her eyes. "T-Taehyung."

"Hmm? What was that?" He tilted his head closer to hear the sound of her voice again. "Can you say it louder?"

She knew that this man loved to prank people. She snapped her teeth into a pleasant smile. "Taehyung, please...?" Her hand opened for her phone.

"Please ...what?" He crooned. She narrowed her eyes as he continued to push his luck.

"Taehyung, please don't push your luck." He blinked. The phone was released into her hands. Now, if he would just let her go. A look slid along the arm that held her against him.

"You can let go now." The hold got tighter. She turned back to him, and their noses brushed. Oh, no. No, no. The funniest thing is that his eyes were a lovely dark shade of brown. He was devastating in colored lenses, but there was something about his natural eye color?

Wait, why are we that close?!

He wasn't!? He couldn't?! He did. Taehyung took that moment of shock as an opener letting their lips brush. She tasted like peach soju and cider. His fingers splayed against the middle of her back as he leaned in. There was a sharp inhale as he stepped her backward into her room.

His hold was firm as their lips danced a hesitant tango. Her hands sank against his chest, unsure of how, where, and if to kiss him? He trying to conquer, demand, and plunder the plush of her lips. The tip of their tongues touched for an electrifying moment that snapped them out of the dance.

It left them both breathless, wide-eyed, and hyperaware. Taehyung leaned in again as her hand covered his mouth. "I think you need to go." Her voice was loud, but cracking, as she gulped for air.

She felt good against him - and now she knew she did as well. His teeth set into the meat of his lip as fingers danced away from her body. One step, two steps back as he smirked at her. "Goodnight, Noona." Taehyung dipped out into the hallway, making haste back to his room.

She turned the lights off, fully dressed, climbed into bed, and prayed she could forget this. Her fingers danced along the surface of her lips. "I'm going to lose my job."

Taehyung's back pressed into the door, causing a soft click. There was a half-smile on his face. The tip of his tongue darted out against his bottom lip. "Peach." He preferred the fruity ones anyway. His teeth set into his bottom lip, pulling the sweetness into his mouth. "Aish!?" He should have kissed her senseless! He growled his frustration as he yanked his clothes off.

The hot spray of the shower wasn't doing enough. Aroused. Unfulfilled. Determined. The water beat against bothered skin as Taehyung pondered all the ways he could get her alone. He stared at the throbbing arousal tapping against his stomach.

Oh, no. Taehyung had no plans on touching himself tonight. It would be her hands moving against him if he had his way.

And he did - in a fashion, for the following 5 months.

[darknytemare]

No Words

BTS - V Imagine - Tall Girl - Interracial - Dirty-ish

Seoul.

This last leg of this tour was kicking her ass. She didn't expect to go from intern to production team. She did her job, absorbed everything she could while learning on the fly.

She had been blessed to have the opportunity to get near the boys. Lots of apps, lots of patience on the part of the staff, and a lot of mistranslations later - she was conversational in Korean.

She needed to be as she found herself suddenly in South Korea for a few months. They'd sped through regional tours before going East. She made sure to keep out of the way of the bangtan bomb filming. As long as the cameras were down, it was ok to speak to the staff - and the boys.

And it happened a lot. Especially at the concert wrap when there was meat, soju, booze, and good feelings from a job well done. They'd all return to their hotel rooms to snag whatever amount of sleep before red-eye flights the next day.

Well, this particular evening found her loose-lipped and lighter in her step. She had left her cellphone at the dinner table - or she thought. She called it to see if one of the production team snagged it for her.

"I-I'm sorry. I think I left my phone at dinner. I can come and grab it." It was early in the morning, yet still too early for people to be asleep. There was a husky chuckle that greeted her instead.

"I wondered who's phone this was." Oh, no. The voice on the other end sounded too amused at her mistake. She swallowed thickly as she schooled her voice into something pleasant.

"V-ssi. I am SO sorry. You must be exhausted. I can just get it from you tomorrow." There was a long, tense silence before he spoke. She could hear the smile in his voice.

"No, no. It's ok. I can bring it to you." He sounded as if he was ready to go on an adventure.

"Ah, no! It's fine. Really. You should get some rest!" She could hear the door closing already on his end. He was really coming to her room.

"It's ok, Noona. It'll only take a second." There was that playful, almost child-like demeanor of his. "See you soon." He hung up. He hung up on her, the little shit!

Panic set in as she made her way to the door, maybe she could just meet him in the hallway. She yanked the door open only to slam into him as he reached up to knock. She pinwheeled her arms for a hot second as he reached out to pull her flush to him.

Their eyes met as he waved the phone in his free hand. "I believe this is yours?" She was barefoot making them just barely eye-level for height.

"A-ah, right. It is." She reached out to grab it as he pulled his hand back. A brow arched as she tilted her head, just so.

"You should respect your elders, V." Her lips pursed as his stare darkened. His fingers splayed against the base of her spine caused her toes to wiggle against the carpet. She was a few years older than all of them. She didn't care about the whole hierarchy thing, but out of respect for her workmates? She adhered to it - if and when told it was required.

"I'm not a kid, you know?" Her lips settled into a flatline. It had been a joke, at first. She had fun thinking of them as dorky little brothers. But, things change when you spend a lot of time around a person. And for some reason? That change had happened with Taehyung.

There they stood, hovering, in her doorway with the rest of the staff most likely heading up for the night. His hand holding the base of her spine. She pressed too tightly to him, looking like a cliche moment out of any drama. "Look, V. It's late can yo-.."

He tilted his head just that scant inch down to her, his brow arched as he held the phone further away from her. "Taehyung," He interrupted her.

"Excuse me?"

"Taehyung."

"I know that's your name."

"So use it."

"What?" Her head tilted as if she needed to clear her ears. "What was that?"

"Don't call me V. Call me Taehyung - use my name."

"Are you serious right now?" She was fighting back irritation.

"Say my name." He shook her phone in her direction. "...and you can have this back." His lips curled up into the faintest of smirks.

"This is no ti-"

"Say my name - or we're both going to have some explaining to do." The devious smile and tone were not to be ignored.

"Fine!" She huffed, rolling her eyes. "T-Taehyung."

"Hmm? What was that?" He tilted his head closer to hear the sound of her voice again. "Can you say it louder?"

She knew that this man loved to prank people. She snapped her teeth into a pleasant smile. "Taehyung, please...?" Her hand opened for her phone.

"Please ...what?" He crooned. She narrowed her eyes as he continued to push his luck.

"Taehyung please don't push your luck." He blinked. The phone was released into her hands. Now, if he would just let her go. A look slid along the arm that held her against him.

"You can let go now." The hold got tighter. She turned back to him, and their noses brushed. Oh, no. No, no. The funniest thing is that his eyes were a lovely dark shade of brown. He was devastating in colored lenses, but there was something about his natural eye color?

Wait, why are we that close?!

He wasn't!? He couldn't?! He did. Taehyung took that moment of shock as an opener letting their lips brush. She tasted like peach soju and cider. His fingers splayed against the middle of her back as he leaned in. There was a sharp inhale as he stepped her backward into her room.

His hold was firm as their lips danced a hesitant tango. Her hands sank into his chest; unsure of how, where, and if to kiss him. While he was trying to conquer, demand, and plunder the plush of her lips. The tip of their tongues touched for an electrifying moment that snapped them out of the dance.

It left them both breathless, wide-eyed, and hyperaware. Taehyung leaned in again as her hand covered his mouth. "I think you need to go." Her voice was loud, but cracking, as she gulped for air.

He knew she would feel good against him - and now she knew as well. His teeth set into the meat of his lip as fingers danced away from her body. One step, two steps back as he smirked at her. "Goodnight, Noona." Taehyung dipped out into the hallway, making haste back to his room.

She turned the lights off, fully dressed, climbed into bed, and prayed she could forget this. Her fingers danced along the surface of her lips. "I'm going to lose my job."

Taehyung's back pressed into his door, causing a soft click. There was a half-smile on his face. The tip of his tongue darted out against his bottom lip. "Peach." He preferred the fruity ones anyway. His teeth set into his bottom lip, pulling the sweetness into his mouth. "Aish!?" He should have kissed her senseless! He growled his frustration as he yanked his clothes off.

The hot spray of the shower wasn't doing enough. Aroused. Unfulfilled. Determined. The water beat against bothered skin as Taehyung pondered all the ways he could get her alone. He stared at the throbbing arousal tapping against his stomach.

Oh, no. Taehyung had no plans on touching himself tonight. It would be her hands moving against him if he had his way.

And he did - in a fashion, for the next 5 months.

[whatevasss]

ONE | TWO | THREE(cs)

when two strangers switch their phones by accident. 

Staring out to the Han River "Awe this is so pretty." Taking a bite of chicken washing it down with a cold beer, the Banpo Bridge show was starting. Putting down the chicken in your hand, you stared out to the river and the bridge to reveal water flowing down the bridge as the light changes colors and kpop blasting throughout the area. As you were admiring the view and bouncing to the rhythm of the music, you felt a strong arm around you. Turning around you realize it was your boyfriend, giving him a quick smile, you turn your head back to the view. Ten minutes later, and the show slowly vanished from your sight, disappointed you sat back down on the steps and continue eating your now cold chicken. After devouring the chicken, you guys decided it was time to leave. Quickly picking up the trash, you turn towards your boyfriend "I have to used the restroom real quick." With a nod, you ran towards the restroom and did your business. Coming out, you saw a dark figure with his back towards you, knowing it was your boyfriend, you decided it would be a fun little prank to mess with him. Slowly walking up to him, you jumped on his back screaming " STOP RIGHT NOW YOU LITTLE PEEPING TOM, I CAUGHT YOU NOW." With everyone slowly turning their heads towards your screaming, you were dropped to the floor to reveal a complete stranger giving you an odd look. This is when you realize you had fucked up and this guy wasn't your boyfriend, but a complete total stranger. Reality quickly hit you in the face as you got up to apologize to the guy you called a pervert. You saw the look on his face and you can tell he wasn't all too happy nor please with what you just did. At the corner of you eye, you saw your boyfriend heading towards you, and you make a ran for him and tug him running away from the scene before anything bad could happen. Running all the way to the subway station, you stop to look back and finally let out a breathe and start panting as you realize he didn't come chasing you guys. Relief you started thinking about what happen, and the strangers faced flash before you "wow, he wasn't bad looking..." "Y/N ! Y/N !" snapping back to reality hearing when your boyfriend called you..."Dam, that was crazy, huh?" Searching for your phone in your pocket and bag, but it was nowhere to be found. With a fear in you, you slowly turn to your impatient boyfriend side eyeing you "uhm...babe, I think I lost my phone." Sensing him being annoyed, you quickly told his hand to walk back to the direction of the Han River. "UGH." he signed loudly letting you know he wasn't too pleased with you. Quickly going to the steps that you were seating earlier, but the phone was nowhere to be seen, heading to the restroom and the phone was still nowhere to be seen. As you head out the restroom, you saw a phone lying on the ground, walking quickly to it, you found your phone. Happily waving it at your boyfriend with a sign of relief. - 3am : unknown calling > delcine 3:05am : unknown calling > decline 3:06am : unknown calling >decline 3:07am : unknown calling > decline

"Who the fuck keeps calling me at 3am. ugh" annoyed you shut the phone off and go back to sleep. - 10am ... turning the phone back on to reveal 20 missed calls from unknown.     10 text from unknown.  10 missed calls from Dabin.           5 text from Dabin. 5 missed calls from Scott.              2 text from Scott.

Confused you rubbed your eyes again to look at the screen clearly to make sure. "What the fuck.!" paused you just stared at the screen blankly. "Who is Dabin and Scott, why are they saved on my contacts." Clearly you had no idea who these two are and why they were saved on your phone. Trying to open the phone, you swipe the screen up but it won't unlock, after several tries, it asks for the pass code, quickly typing 1314 to unlock your phone but to your surprise it won't unlock. Frustrated you threw the phone onto the bed, "stupid phone." You proceed to get on with your morning routine. As you were finishing up, you heard a ding indicating you have a new text...”hm. that’s weird, when did i change my ringtone." shrugging it off, you grab the phone off the bed and continue to once again to try to unlock your phone. It still won't unlock, you try again and again and making your frustration even more than before. Not giving a fuck anymore you threw the phone back on the bed and head to the kitchen. Scanning around you realized you didn't go grocery shopping, "Fuck, there's no food and I'm hungry." Debating on what to do, you head back to the bedroom, grabbed the phone and tried again, but it still won't unlock. You wanted to text your best friend, Viv, to see if she wanted to grab food with you. Being annoyed you quick got dressed and head out to her apartment as it was in the same complex, just a couple of floors down.  ... Ring ring ring ... silent ... ring ring ring ... silent ... annoyed, you bang on the door and still no answer. "Gosh, what is with today." Good thing, you know the code, and let yourself in. Once inside you head to the bedroom to see your best friend completely knocked out still. You saw a water bottle on the nightstand and decided to play a little prank on her and drop whatever water was left in the bottle all over her. "UGHHHH. BISH. WTF." laughing hysterically you gave her a opps, my bad look. "bish, hurry up and get up, i'm starving! lets go eat!" 

-

Entering a cafe after breakfast.  Y/N : Go grab and a table and I’ll order the drinks and such.  V : MMKAY.  Y/N : What do you want?  V: Uhm..iced vanilla latte please.  Y/N : Okay. 

Nodding a simply yes, you headed to the counter. “One ice vanilla latte, one iced americano, one cheesecake, and one carrot cake please.” 

Heading to the table with the tray of food and drinks. As you set the tray down, Viv shocked “Bish, why did you get so much? We just ate.” Simply shrugging your shoulder you took a seat across from her. Silently enojying the sweet goodness, Viv started to speak. 

V : So are you not going to tell me about yesterday?  Y/N : UHM...nothing happened.  V : What do you mean nothing happen? I thought we have talked about this and how you need to be strong and go through with this.  Y/N : I know, but I just can’t. OK? Can we please just drop this?  V : NO, we cannot just drop this. He’s a cheater and you know it. So, why are you still holding on to him when all there left is pain for you. Can’t you see? Y/N : CLEARLY NOT BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE HIM. OK. I DON’T WANT TO. I DON’T BELIEVE IT. I WON’T BELIEVE IT.  V : You need to realize he is not going to stop, he is not going to turn around. He isn’t the guy you fell for.  Y/N : JUST STOP IT PLEASE.  V : BISH, you have lost him when he cheated on you. And I’m sorry, but the truth is the truth. 

Speechless as you don’t know what to say or do as a single tear flow down your check. Quickly wiping it, afraid of her seeing it and making a bigger deal out of this. Sighing...”But but but...” no other words came out. You knew the truth, and that was the truth; it hurts but the truth is the truth. You didn’t want to lose him, you don’t want to face reality. "Y/N, listen to me, you know its best to leave him before you get anymore attached to him. i know how much you loved him, and i'm sorr..." Before she can finish talking, your phone started to ring. 

Unknown calling > accept. Not wanting to hear what your best friend had to say, you quickly accepted the call. 

Y/N : UHM...Hello?” Unknown : FINALLY YOU PICKED UP. WHAT THE FUCK TOOK YOU SO LONG. 

Not wanting another person yelling at you, you quickly hung up the call. 

Unknown calling > accept  Y/N : Please sto,,, Unknown : DON’T YOU DARE HUNG UP NOW.  Y/N : What do you want? I don’t know you.  Unknown : YOU HAVE MY DAMN PHONE AND I WANT IT BACK. Y/N : I have no idea what you are talking about. Please calm down and stop yelling at me or i’ll hung up again.  Unknown : Fine. Now will you please just give me my phone back?  Y/N : Uhm...this is my phone ?  Unknown : No, it’s not. It’s mine.  Y/N : Uhm.... Unknown : Punch in 951 to unlock the phone and it’ll prove that its mine.  Y/N : Uhm... Unknown : SOOOOO...? ----  You quickly type in the pass code 951 to unlock the phone.  --- Y/N : OMG, it unlocked. WTF. I wasn’t able to unlock this phone the whole morning.  Unknown : Well, no shit Sherlock Holmes, this is my phone.  Y/N : Then were is my phone?  Unknown : What is your pass code? Y/N : 1314  Unknown : Seems like I have your phone. Cute doggie by the way.  Y/N : OMG, how did this happen? How do you have my phone and how did I end up with yours?  Unknown : Beats me baby girl.  Y/N : Uhm...ok ?  Unknown : Yes?  Y/N : What do we do now?  Unknown : Are you really asking the obviously, baby girl?  Y/N : Please stop calling me that. I am not your baby girl.  Unknown : Ok, baby girl. What is your name then?  Y/N : That’s none of your business.  Unknown : Then I guess baby girl it is.  Y/N : Ugh, Unknown : hahaha. Where are you? Y/N : xxx cafe in xxx, you? Unknown : Fuck, I’m at the airport right now.  Y/N : That’s at least a hour away without traffic.  Unknown : No shit, baby girl.  Y/N : Then ...  Unknown : ... Y/N : What time is your flight?  Unknown : Boarding in 30min.  Y/N : Dam...I guess when you come back? Unknown : In a week.  Y/N : That long?  Unknown :  Why? You can’t wait to see me huh, baby girl?  Y/N : HA. Yea right. I just want my phone back and be done with you.  Unknown : Baby girl, you don’t have to be in denial. I know you’ll fall for me once you see me.  Y/N : HAHA. Funniest thing I heard all day. But FYI I have a boyfriend.  Unknown : Challenge accepted, baby girl.  Y/N : Prepare to be hit with a big fat FAIL.  Unknown : We shall seee...  Y/N : So what is your name?  Unknown : Christian and you? or would you like me to just call you baby girl?  Y/N : ...  Unknown : I told you my name, isn’t it fair for me to know yours?  Y/N : How do I know your not a creep who did this on purpose. Unknown : Believe what you want baby girl.  Y/N : ... Unknown : I gotta go now, baby girl. Keep my phone safe please.  Y/N : Y/N Unknown : What was that, baby girl?  Y/N : My name is Y/N. Unknown : Sexy name for a sexy girl. I’ll see you in a week then, Y/N. 

--- The phone call came to an end, and you couldn’t stop smiling. It was like he put some kind of spell on you. You felt butterflies in your stomach when he started calling you baby girl. Drifting your thoughts away as who this boy was...your best friend smack you back into reality, “What was that about?” Without responding you got up smiling like an idiot and lleft the cafe leaving your best friend behind.

---

to be cont...

I literally wrote this in a hour at work so please ignore any mistakes. thank you. :) feedbacks will always be appreciated. 

[majesticfox34556]

Gabriel SPN Bingo 2019

This is for the square Trauma Recovery.

Title: Good Times Outweigh the Bad

Paring: Sam/Gabriel

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions of character death by fire. Kissing.

Sam sat on a bucket out at the barn. He worked all day at the Blue Horse animal sanctuary. He couldn’t sleep. Some nights sleep just wouldn’t come. He had awful nightmares of fire and his family burning in the flames.

His nightmares were based off of the fact his parents died in a house fire when he was fourteen. His older brother and him managed to get out. Dean had raised him until Sam could live on his own. Their Uncle Bobby employed Dean at his garage and Sam worked there for a while. It wasn’t for him though.

Sam had bounced from job to job until he found the animal sanctuary. The owner, Gabriel Novak, was the brother to Dean’s boyfriend, Castiel Novak. It was a shock to everyone when Dean came out. Sam had shortly followed.

Sam stared at the stars. Flashes of the fire that took his parents invaded his mind.

“Can’t sleep.” A voice asked, softly.

“Yeah. Nightmares.” Sam looked up and met Gabriel’s golden green gaze. Sam shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ way.

“Mind if I sit?” Gabriel motioned to the other bucket.

“Go ahead. Have a seat.” Sam leaned against the wall and looked at the stars and moon. “Mom used to love the moon. Her favorite thing was sitting outside and night and having a campfire.” Sam snorted. “The irony of it. She died at night in a fire.”

“Don’t think about that.” Gabriel ordered softly. “Picture the good times with her and forget how she died. She wouldn’t want you to ruin your life with that, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s so hard.” Sam breathed hard through his nose.

“What was her favorite food?” Gabriel asked.

“Pie.” Sam’s mouth lifted a little. “One time, when I was really little, she was trying to make a raspberry pie. She would start to work on it, but I would distract her so Dean could sneak a few berries. She would go back to work on it and Dean would distract her so I could grab some berries. We managed to finish off half the bowl before she noticed. She scolded us and sent us to our rooms. Dad came home for dinner and the pie had so few berries. Mom tried to fix it by filling it will sugar and apples. Dad took one bite and manfully swallowed it. He asked who made the pie and the story came out. We laughed so hard over that.”

Gabriel hummed. “See? Good things. Whenever you feel those bad things creep up, ask yourself about your Dad’s favorite food, what was their favorite color, what was their funniest memory. It’ll work.”

Sam smiled a sleepy smile. “Thanks Gabriel.”

“You’re welcome. Come on, Moose. I’m tired. Time for bed.” Gabriel hauled the six foot four inches man to his feet.

Gabriel led Sam to his bed. “Just for tonight.” Gabriel hoped that was a lie that came out of his mouth. He had loved Sam for many years. He wanted Sam to sleep in his bed every night.

Sam snuggled under the covers and Gabriel crawled in next to him. Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel. “I love you Gabriel. You’re so nice.”

Gabriel’s heart leapt. “You’re exhausted. Go to sleep Sam.” He didn’t dare hope.

“I mean it. I’m not exhausted. I love you.” Sam tried again.

Gabriel rolled over to face him. “Sam?” The curling bud of hope sprung up in his chest.

“I love how you care for the horses. I love how gentle you can be at times. I love how you care for your little brother and me. I know you have a soft heart that you hide behind jokes and pranks. You care. Deep down, you really care and I love you.” Sam leaned up on an elbow, eyes crystal clear.

“Sam? I love you too.” Gabriel breathed, hoping this wasn’t a dream.  “I’m dreaming aren’t I?”

Sam kissed him. “Was that a dream?”

“No. But I’m not entirely sure. Kiss me again?” Gabriel looked up at the man above him with starry eyes.

Sam kissed the other man. “Better.”

“Yup. A thousand times better.” Gabriel surged up to kiss him again.

They traded kisses back and forth for a while before they curled up to sleep.

The ringing of a phone woke them up the next morning. Gabriel stared at Sam as he answered the phone. He put it on speaker.

“Go ahead Dean. We’re together at the moment.” Sam winced at his choice of words.

“What are you doing together at six in the morning?” Dean sounded suspicious.

“Uh… we are kind of boyfriends and slept in the same bed.” Sam flinched at Dean’s loud whoop. “Cas! They are finally together! Bobby owes my fifty bucks now!”

“Really?” Castiel’s voice came over the line. “Who made the first move?”

“Sam!” It slipped out of Gabriel’s mouth.

Sam gave him a look but Gabriel gave him a cheeky wink.

“Ha! Another twenty dollars from Jo.” Dean crowed. “Hey, Baby, let me take you out tonight.”

“Okay!” Sam interrupted before Dean could get anymore explictic. “Did you need something?”

“Yeah. Bobby and Ellen want us to come over for dinner tomorrow night.” Dean sounded happy.

“Okay, we’ll be there. Bye.” Sam hung up the phone.

Gabriel fidgeted nervously before Sam leaned in and kissed him.

“Good morning.” Sam spoke against his mouth.

“Good morning Sam.” Gabriel kissed back.

It became their thing to kiss every morning for the rest of their lives.

[arrghigiveup]

I love how we've been getting all these comments on the "greatest prank Fleury's ever played" and they're somehow always different:

When Tom Kuhnhackl was a rookie during the 2015-16 season, he noticed Fleury leave the Penguins' practice facility more quickly than normal but didn't really think too much of it.

His mistake.

Turns out Fleury had swiped Kuhnhackl's car keys, attached a few liquid chalk markers to his vehicle and parked it in front of where the autograph seekers gather and wait for players to leave the parking lot.

"Every single fan there signed my car," Kuhnhackl said, shaking his head. "I couldn't see out of any of the windows."

"Thank God there's a GetGo with a car wash down the road. It only took me a minute to get there, but I remember driving with my head out the window, trying to figure out where I'm going."

The legacy Fleury left in Pittsburgh involves equal parts pranks and good deeds done.

Bryan Rust remembers the time Fleury hung his clothes from the rafters at PPG Paints Arena, while former backup Jeff Zatkoff loves to tell the story of the time Fleury changed the labels on the hairspray and deodorant cans.

Bullano said Fleury once got Evgeni Malkin good when, after Malkin bought a new sports car, Fleury attached pop cans in hard-to-see places so it sounded like there was something seriously wrong.

"He's one of the funniest guys I've ever met," Kuhnhackl said. "A great character guy."

[source]

[img source]

(more under the cut)

During the AMA, Schultz was asked by a fan (Reddit User McCowan-) if he was part of a prank war within the team and what was the best prank that happened to him.

Schultz responded with a wonderful story about being pranked by Fleury shortly after being traded to the Penguins.

"I'm not a part of any prank war. I try to stay away from that stuff so it doesn't happen to me. The best prank that happened to me was right when I got here, my first or second practice. I go out for practice and all my street clothes are hanging up in the rafters thanks to Flower. I would say that was a good one."

[source]

[img source]

In addition to a decorated résumé—he has won more Stanley Cups (three) than the rest of Vegas’s roster combined (zero), and his 115 playoff games outpace any teammate by 35—this joie de vivre made Fleury perfectly suited for an expansion franchise. If the Golden Knights were indeed destined for a rocky maiden voyage, might as well have someone cracking jokes in the galley. (Or performing Fleury’s favorite prank by ducking under table cloths and dumping pasta sauce onto sneakers; rumored victims of the daring “shoe check” include NBC Sports announcer Pierre McGuire in a Philadelphia steak house and actor David Spade over dinner at Penguins owner Ron Burkle’s Beverly Hills mansion.)

[...]

Fleury is again sprawling, pokechecking and cart-wheeling as much as ever. His goals against average (1.77) and save percentage (.942) both rank second league-wide. “He’s a great leader,” Marchessault says. “It’s been 14 years, and he acts like he’s here [in the NHL] for two months.” Pranks were shelved while he healed, but Fleury is coming around there too. Returning to his hotel room during a recent road trip, Marchessault discovered water leaking onto the bathroom floor. Someone had sneaked inside and unscrewed the toilet pipes.

[source]

Crosby on his favorite Fleury prank: "He got stink bombs... They reek. He got at least 4-5 guys' hotel rooms with those. He found a way to pretty much evacuate a floor of the hotel with those stink bombs. He had so many. He kept it loose. There was something like that every day."

[source]

IAN COLE: “We were in L.A. last year. A large group of us went to dinner, and maybe six of us started to walk home, six of us wanted to go somewhere else. [Fleury] was in the group of six that walked home, and they were walkig by a skating rink, an outdoor skating rink. He went and rented some skates, kind of stiff-legged around the ice. Then went really fast, full-speed over the wall, tumbled over the wall and dropped like three feet to the ground, just to see what the security guards would do. They all come flying over, diving over the boards to make sure he’s OK. The other five guys are standing there just cracking up. Got a video of it, showed the boys. It was one of the funnier things I’ve seen, the security guards’ reactions. These high-school kids freaking out thinking somebody killed themselves on their outdoor rink in Santa Monica. It was pretty funny. He’s a character.”

[source]

[vid source]

Plenty of other prankster personalities have preceded Fleury. His first NHL roommate was current Montreal GM Marc Bergevin, a luminary in the field of hijinx. But few possess greater guile or wider diversity than Fleury. Over the years, his greatest practical jokes include:

Filling towels with shaving cream.

Nailing shoes to locker stalls.

Tying Coke cans to the bottom of Penguins center Evgeni Malkin’s new Porsche.

Stuffing Pittsburgh strength coach Mike Kadar’s car with packing peanuts.

Drenching teammates’ clothes in the shower and sticking them in the freezer.

Taping the spray button on a deodorant can, then lobbing that can into an occupied bathroom stall like a grenade. “Not ideal when you’re taking a No. 2,” says Devils assistant coach Alain Nasreddine, who played in Pittsburgh for bits of three seasons.

Hanging new players’ clothes from arena rafters. “If you know the rink security guys,” former Penguins forward Eric Fehr says, “you can accomplish quite a bit.”

[source]

Just. I love him so much.

Bonus #1: 

Ok...can’t make this up.  15 minutes before he takes the ice a very emotional game, Marc-Andre just snuck up behind me and SMACKED me in the back of the head!!!!   Different jersey...same man (...jerk.) -DP

[source]

Bonus #2:

Fleury on if he will prank his old teammates: "I had one in Vegas. I laughed. I can’t say it though, it’s not appropriate. Nothing so far. They should be out of their locker room now right? We’ll see." -SK

[source]

Bonus #3: Not a prank, but a great story all the same

I only spoke with Marc Andre Fleury three times during his tenure with the Penguins. Spending most of my time on the 7th floor while he rarely left the 1st didn’t afford me many chances beyond those few. But we had a funny connection that I can now share with you.

Starting in my first season anytime I introduced the team to the ice, Marc would without fail run down the runway. It took me half a season to realize he was timing his skate hitting the ice with when I said “Penguins”. To be certain, I tested him over two games. I varied my delivery. He changed his pace. Without fail, he nailed it each time.

Once I was certain, I no longer tested. In fact I took great pains to make sure we timed it without him having to kill himself. If we missed for some reason and he had a poor start I would blame myself.

By my rough estimate of four times a game over nine seasons, Marc Andre Fleury and I were in sync a little shy of 900 times.

He and I never once spoke of it. I will miss it greatly.

~Ryan Mill, Penguins public address announcer

[Source: 1, 2 and you can see a video of it happening here]

[philthedeville]

INTRODUCING PHILLIP “PHIL” DEVILLE. A HUMAN FROM AMITY PARK.

Growing up it’s always been Phil and his twin sister, Lil. The two were the best of friends and did everything together. They shared a room, made mud pies, and hung out with their friends since they were babies. Tommy, Chuckie, Lil, and Phil were the best of friends and have known each other since birth. Nothing compared to how close Phil and his sister were though. 

As a kid Phil was known for being the weird one. He ate worms and wiped his boogers in the hair of the girl that sat in front of him in the second grade. When she finally caught on she started crying and it landed Phil in multiple detentions when he should have been at recess. At the time Lil thought it was the funniest thing, but as they grew older the gross pranks that Phil would pull didn’t seem to humor her any longer.

Phil says the day his life ended was the day Lil moved into her own bedroom. After that he hasn’t felt the same. It was years ago and still he feels disconnected from his twin. They’re still close, of course, and he loves his sister but things just aren’t the same.

Phil tried to look on the bright side of having his own room. He decorated it with Reptar posters but he also became very lazy. His room was constantly a mess and there was a strange odor coming from his dirty soccer clothes.

Soccer was something he never thought he would do when he was younger but when he was in middle and high school he played. Besides, Lil had began to find her own interests so why shouldn’t he? He didn’t love soccer, but it was something to do and it made his mom happy.

High school came and went and while all his friends and his sister were off to college Phil decided to take a gap year. He loathed school and had often skipped. Plus, his grades weren’t the best. 

During his ‘gap year’ he didn’t do much. He mostly hung out with friends, smoked weed, and lounged around the house. He did end up getting a part time job for the summer, but ended up quitting by just not showing up anymore. Phil was a very irresponsible person and hasn’t really grown out of that.

One year turned into six and Phil still hasn’t gone to college. He doesn’t have a job and he’s only ever had one other job besides his first one. He is very unmotivated and doesn’t really care.

During his time living at home he began to experiment with cooking. He was helping his mom make dinner one night and he tossed an extra ingredient or two in and boom a new dish was born. It didn’t look the best but it sure did smell good. It tasted even better! After that Phil started experimenting more in the kitchen and made all sorts of dishes. He loved to cook and pretty much was the sole chef in his family. 

Cooking for his family came with it’s perks. He wrote the grocery list and always threw in some good snacks on the list as well as the best ingredients. 

To make money to, well, do anything Phil helped his mom around the house. He cleaned the gutters, did yardwork, and pretty much anything she asked. Phil grew a lot closer to his mom over the past few years and, in a way, she became a replacement for Lil. Not that anyone could ever in a million years replace his twin, but he needed someone to cling to. And now that Lil moved out and got her own place with Kimi, Phil felt as lonely as ever. He had his mom and his friends though and he still talked to Lil daily so he supposed that was enough.

Doesn’t have a favorite food because there’s so many he still hasn’t tried, but does love spicy food. 

Plays a lot of video games. He enjoys the classic Reptar games as well.

Is just generally a very lazy and unmotivated person.

Thinks about going to culinary school from time to time because his mom has pushed him to do it, but he doesn’t want to deal with all the general education courses he would have to take first. He doesn’t remember what a hyperbole is let alone the Pythagorean theorem.

Is a Aries sun, Taurus moon, and Taurus rising.

More to be added later :)

[unofficialxstyles]

Chapter 2-Time Loops & Things

I jammed my finger against the green button quickly, only to come face to face with an all too familiar figure. Although he was covered in sweat and in an indisputable state of not yet having a shower, he still managed to look cool. And cute. Even with those damn shoes.

I panicked.

“You!” Stranger Danger’s lips spread into a wide smirk, recognition evident on his face.

Clearly, I was not the only one who had a vivid memory of our encounter.

“Me,” I answered tentatively, nodding my head slowly, as if I, myself, needed to to confirm his already obvious statement.

“I didn’t know you go to the gym. I’ve never seen you before,”

Shit, was I in a time loop?

I love Reese.

Or at least I did during the times he was not attempting to push me into the depths of trouble or try to shred every last semblance of dignity and/or credibility that I possessed.

Growing up, Reese and I had been close. Being two years apart meant that we did have some things in common, at least, that we could talk about. I idolised him and wanted to be like him in the earlier part of my youth-there was even a time I dressed up like the Backstreet Boys because he was in a phase.

Uncle Sam made sure I never forgot those days, sadly.

Unfortunately, growing up close also meant that Reese would pull the occasional prank and like every member of the male species, enjoyed getting on my nerves. He ratted on me when I bought my first lace bra with Katie Lee at thirteen and he saw me at the mall. He swapped my shampoo for toothpaste before my date at sixteen. He egged me on often, setting impossible tasks for me to accomplish. Despite knowing most times that I would fail, I took his bait, anyway, and it usually ended up with him kneeling over with laughter and me rubbing my face in mountainous embarrassment.

Despite that, I loved my brother.

And maybe wanted his approval.

That was why I agreed to meet him at eleven at night, running on four hours of sleep the day before, at a coffee shop half way across town.

It was bad decision number three hundred and ninety-three.

“So, you basically just buy coffee for the crew?” I asked in genuine horror, incredulous that after having to spend a conspicuous amount of money for his degree in stage management, Reese Westwood was reduced to being a coffee man.

I might hate him sometimes but nobody deserved to be half asleep, queueing in a snaking line for cups of coffee only to have to balance them on hands, legs and head afterwards to get it to a crew.

My brother only nodded. Instead of looking dejected over my statement regarding his non-bright predicament, however, his eyes lit up.

“I have to learn the ropes, Rob. I mean, I’m new and nothing they teach you at university is useful anyway. Tell me, do they tell you how to handle screaming kids at uni? Really handle them,” he shot back. I opened my mouth, then closed it again-there was no lie there, for sure. Reese pointed a finger at me, as if he proved a point. “You have to be in it to learn it. So you know, if buying coffee means I get a chance to work along side the actual stage manager then I’d gladly do it,”

Sometimes, my brother made sense.

I mean, you gotta bust ass occasionally.

“That does make sense,” I agreed, downing the remainder of my sugarless concoction.

Why anyone would fancy decorated coffee was beyond me, by the way.

“Enough about my coffee runs. What are you up to these days? Besides burying yourself in Twilight fanfiction and napping every time it rains,” Reese listed, an indication that my brother knew me too well. I reached over and smacked him on the arm.

“Could you please lower down your volume about the Twilight fanfiction,” I mumbled through gritted teeth. “It’s not like I can stop myself. And…you’re wrong, Reese. I go out to the bookstore on my own now,”

My brother clapped slowly, then snorted in disapproval. It was a miracle that he did not sputter coffee all over the table, too.

“That’s hardly activity, Robin. I’m concerned for you,” I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the chair, crossing one leg over the other. He seemed determined in his quest to…whatever the quest was.  “You should really join a gym, you know. They have classes and you get healthy and all the good stuff. And you can make friends,”

I looked at him as if he told me I had grown pink feathers and green scales-at the same time.

“Right. Sweaty people and over inflated egos at the dumbbell thingy? No thank you, Reese. You might be the active one but I am fine just the way I am. And I already have friends,” I held my hands up in defence, face contorted in disgust.

At this point in time (or any point in time for that matter), I was fine with him taking the title for ‘most fit and good looking in the family’; I was definitely not fighting him for the position. Besides, he had been trying to get me to go to the gym for years with little success. I liked my life the way it was.

That was not about to change now.

“You have two friends, Rob. Come on, twenty-three is the time your body starts to slow you down,” he argued on, ignoring my previous undertone of absolute rejection of his idea. My brother could be a real pusher when he really wanted to be. “I’ll pay for you,”

I shook my head ‘no’ once more. This appeared to exasperate my brother and he threw his hands up in the air, as if he only just found out his little sister abhorred the idea of physical activity in any form.

“That’s just you now, isn’t it? You so readily give up when it’s outside your comfort zone. Even if it’s good for you. You’re a quitter,” Reese accused.

O-kay. Was this the start of a sand pit fight but with words?

“Reese, come on. Why’re you so upset, anyway? It’s the gym; you know the answer! I’ve told you many times before.  And how does this make me a quitter?”

“Uhm, you don’t even try? That’s quitting before it even starts! You quit playing Barbies when the comb got stuck in the doll’s hair,”

“I was like…five, Reese, and it was the doll’s hair or my hand and self-worth,” I responded flatly, my eyes narrowed at my brother’s nerve to deliver a low blow and his tendency to bring up my dark past.

The air between us stilled and for a while, we did nothing but stare at each other. Well, I stared at my brother while he checked out a blonde barista whom I presumed was making eyes at him.

Right.

“Prove you’re not a quitter then,” his words finally cut through the momentary silence that hung between us. His attention was back on me, then.

I hated how much I could never resist when my brother posed a challenge.

Even when repeated events reminded me that it would do me no good and I would be the one who ended up the one with a less than favourable memory of any shared incidences.

“Fine,”

Bad decision number three hundred and ninety four? Checked.  

That was almost two and the half weeks ago. Between then and now, I have had to resuscitate myself at least fifty-two times by gasping large amounts air- while holding my stomach so the contents did not accidentally choke me to death, too.

All in all, I was miserable.

“Alright, this is the last stretch. We’re going up a mountain. I need you to increase your resistance…turn the gear, and…push,”

And boy did I push.

My legs spun wildly on the bicycle, matching the beat of Bieber’s ‘Sorry’, sweat dripping down every inch of my body-even in the darkest of places. By then, my ponytail had untangled itself slightly, wisps of hair flying in my face from the fan blowing in double directions to mimic winds on a mountain or something like that-I was far too gone to care. Trying not to eat my own hair whilst feebly getting air into my lungs and ignoring the burn in my legs at the same time proved impossible but thankfully, the music slowly died.

And so did I. Well, almost.

I slumped on the bicycle seat, body bent forward as I attempted to catch my breath-this time for longer than the thirty-second interval. Around me, people cheered for a job well done and had begun getting off the bicycle to do the closing stretches.

I, on the other hand, needed two more minutes to make sure I was not completely dead.

Unluckily for me, the length of the stretch was equivalent to the time I took to regain myself proper. By the time I stumbled off the bicycle and reached for the towel to make sure I did not flood the room with perspiration, everyone else was already gayly filing out, the instructor himself grinning as he high fived each one of them on their way out. A far cry from my own appearance, the instructor looked like he had been sitting on the couch watching Sherlock the whole time and not yelling at the top of his lungs for the class to keep up to his insane pace.

Lucky bastard.

As I ambled out, he offered me a bright smile and his hand for a high five. I obliged. Now that we were not under dim, pseudo disco lights, I could see how obviously fit he was, his tattoo decorated arm muscular.

“You’re new? I haven’t seen you before,” he commented, falling into step next to me.

Oh hell no.

I was not in the mood for a conversation right now. I have not even fully recovered, for God’s sake.

“Uhm yea.” I replied. I would have hastened my pace and made a run for the showers, too, but my legs were jelly and therefore, uncooperative.

Screw this.

Before this, the only jelly I came into contact with was plated.

When Liam mentioned that this was an easy class to conquer, he clearly and conveniently forgot to mention that the notion only applied to people who have been at this for a while.

Not a novice gym go-er.

“Ah, no wonder I haven’t seen you before,” Ditto that. “You kept up pretty well with the rest of the class for a first timer. Usually, most do not make it past the first twenty minutes, I’m impressed,”

“Thank you? I usually try not to disappoint,”

That comment earned a light chuckle from my instructor, his green eyes crinkling at the corners, as if I had said the funniest thing he heard all day. I only looked at him, perplexed at his reaction, then cleared my throat.

“I, uh, should go. Don’t want to kill anyone with my looks and smell right now,” I continued, pointing in the direction of the locker room. “Thanks for the…class,”

The instructor smiled and nodded but did not make a move for two whole seconds. I stared back awkwardly, wondering if he had anything to add or if I had something on my face other than proof of hard work. After deciding that a decent amount of time had passed with no immediate concern for my ego, I flashed a gawky smile and painfully climbed up the stairs that led to the locker room.

There was no point in prolonging torture of any form, anyway.

The process of cleaning up was quick and hassle free, motivated by the fact that I had materials to prepare for work the next day. Plus, locker rooms generally made me uncomfortable, too. It was the place to showcase your true level of confidence, clearly, because no one there seemed to know the meaning of the word decency or consideration. People stripped bare and left their under things lying around freely-not caring who else could be possibly terrorised by the mere sight or whether or not they were overexposing their deepest secrets.

Hence, I had no choice but to prance around with half closed eyelids right after my shower. I slid into my clothes as quickly as possible before making a swift exit. By this time, I was desperate to go home and leave my gym adventures in the dust.

At least for now.

I had made it to the lift, too, when halfway through the door closing, someone yelled.

“Hold it!”

I jammed my finger against the green button quickly, only to come face to face with an all too familiar figure. Even covered in sweat and in an indisputable state of not yet having a shower, he still managed to look cool. And cute. Even with those damn shoes.

I panicked.

“You!” Stranger Danger’s lips spread into a wide smirk, recognition evident on his face.

Clearly, I was not the only one who had a vivid memory of our encounter.

“Me,” I answered tentatively, nodding my head slowly, as if I, myself, needed to confirm his already obvious statement.

“I didn’t know you go to the gym, too. I’ve never seen you before,”

Shit, was I in a time loop?

Lucky for me, I remembered to press the ‘door close’ button and the lift whizzed towards the first floor.

“It’s a new arrangement. You go to the gym, too?”

It was a stupid question, probably, but it was either that or the sound of dead silence the rest of the way down so it was mindless decision, really.

Dead silence gave me the creeps.

“Yeah, yeah. Been going for a while now,” If he thought it was a stupid question, he indicated none of it. He did, however, stretch his hand out. “I’m Harry…Styles. Harry Styles,”

I blinked a few times.

“Robin Westwood,” I introduced myself, then took his hand. His long fingers curled around mine and after firmly shaking twice, he let go.

“Like batman and Robin,” he commented, jamming a hand into the pocket of his shorts. The lift was nearly to the lobby  but he was bouncing on his feet, clearly impatient.

I, however, was livid.

I had not heard the batman joke in eight years. Maybe ten. The last person who said it to me got a black eye.

It was one of my prouder moments, I must admit.

Thankfully, the door opened just as the possibility of socking Harry Styles floated into my mind. The impending crisis was therefore temporarily averted as we both stepped out.

“See you again soon?” he asked, halting mid-step.

All else aside, at that moment, I found myself wondering just why my resolve and determination to simply get home was met with obstacles over and over again. Did I offend the universe? Harry was oblivious and prodded on.

“I’m here Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The strength classes are the best so maybe we could gym together sometime,”

Before I could formulate a proper reply, most likely to decline his kind invitation, the door to another elevator opened and out stepped a herd of people, the last of which was my spinning class instructor. His calm expression morphed into a friendly grin when he spotted Harry and I.

Damnit, what now?

Spinning Instructor waved enthusiastically, making a beeline for us. Unlike my newly minted friend, he was undoubtedly clean.

“Harry, hi. Didn’t see you at the gym,” Instructor commented, then turned to me, offering a nod of acknowledgement. Harry waved a hand back in greeting.

“Aye, John was working me hard today, Louis,”

They then launched into deep conversation about protein shakes.

That was definitely my cue to exit because this could go on forever and had absolutely nothing to do with me. My journey home was already prolonged by five minutes and twenty seconds for less than justifiable reasons in the first place.

“I should go. You two should catch up,” I interjected, already taking small steps back, water bottle clutched to my chest. “It was nice meeting you two,”

They paused their conversation and turned to bid me goodbye, I assumed, but unlike the smile he wore before, Harry merely cast his gaze in my direction, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, Robin. You should probably know... I can see your...things...through your shirt,” Harry cautioned.

“Things?” my expression matched his but my eyes immediately darted towards my shirt.

Shit

Tits. He meant tits.

A/N: An update!! An actual update!!!!!!!!!!!!! *random crowd cheering* I actually saw Harry on Thursday in all his shiny gold clad glory and I am never the same since then.  Talk to me about Harry. Or Robin. Or even Spinning Instructor; I’d love to hear your thoughts!! P.S: Spinning classes are actually pretty fun tbh!!

[tcm--holland]

memory // peter parker

summary: best friends till the end…or rather, best friends until two months ago. what happened to you, and why did you suddenly disappear? an arcane letter with a single date on it is all peter has left of you as he ponders a love that could’ve been.

word count: about 2.8k

a/n: so comic was very light-hearted, so i took some time to write something a little more on the angsty side. i stayed up last night for this, because i just love it so much!! do i even need to say it’s unedited anymore? also thank you so much for all the notes comic got (about 150 in 2 days !!!!!) and have fun reading this one, i hope you love this as much as i do!! <333

masterlist

________________________

On the floor sits the Spider-Man suit in a small pile. A few feet away are the remnants of what appears to be a LEGO Death Star. The shelves are stocked with books, and the desk has some kind of mechanical parts scattered about. On the wall hangs an Iron Man poster. Looks like that poster’s been there a while.

And finally, sitting on the bed is Peter Parker. His earbuds hang in his ears, but he’s not listening to anything. His eyes are faintly bloodshot from crying just a few minutes ago. The phone in his hand shows that he was looking at a picture. The girl in the photo is you, grinning and holding up a peace sign next to him. You’re both in black pants and a red polo, the uniform of an old job.

In his mind, he remembers a long forgotten memory. When that picture was taken, he’d just made a lame pun about popcorn (“Here’s a bad joke about popcorn. Wait, never mind, it’s too corny!”) Of course, you thought it was the funniest thing ever and got caught mid-laughter while Peter tried very hard to not laugh with you. He remembers how contagious your laughter was, and how it sparked up something something very pure inside of him. He wishes for what could’ve been.

Peter stands up and walks over to his desk, moving aside the mechanical parts and digging up a piece of paper. He takes a seat and a deep breath before he starts writing.

You looked up just as Peter walked in. Well, not really walked so much as awkwardly shuffled. His pants looked like they could slide off his waist at any given moment, and his shirt was definitely three sizes too big. You burst out laughing, to which he looked a little miffed.

“Oh my god, who gave you that uniform?” You quickly told someone to cover you for a few minutes as you grabbed Peter by the arm and dragged him into the back room.

“Uh, there was this guy, I think his name was, like, Josh -”

“Josh! Here, if you’re going to work at this honorable movie theater, you can’t look like that.” You shut the door behind you and tossed him a new polo and pants.

“Wh - Josh told me these” - he motioned to his ill fitting attire - “were all you guys had!” Peter gaped at the clothes you gave him, sliding his hand into his pocket to retrieve his name tag.

“Yeah, well, you’ll learn quickly that he’s notorious for messing with people.” You grab his name tag, which reads, ‘Parker Peter’. “I thought Peter was a first name, but cool. Parker Peter.”

“Yeah, I’m Park - wait, no, I’m Peter Parker! What the hell?” He grabbed it back and looked at it before groaning. “Did Josh do this too?”

“Uh…he didn’t. He just kinda gave me the idea to do it.” You gave him a mischievous smirk and winked. “Sorry, Parker Peter. See you ‘round.”

Peter could only stare in utter shock as you clicked the door shut behind you to let him change. It was in that moment that he realized that he was crazy for you, and he smiled.

Or at least, tries to start writing. His hand starts shaking, just a little at first. But it gradually becomes so bad that he can hardly hold the pen anymore. Peter sets the pen down and runs his hands through his hair.

When he met you, it was like he was alive again. As though he hadn’t been breathing right this whole time and he had just figured it out. He knew you were going to be one of his closest friends that summer.

Peter sets his head in his hands, wondering how this ended up the way it did. He writes a few lines about how you never pick up when he calls you, or how you never text back anymore. He crumples up the paper into a ball and throws it into a random corner of his room. It bounces off of the wall and, coincidentally, into the trash can.

“Yeah! Come on, maybe you have a hidden talent here. See if you can beat my record!” You encouraged Peter, giving him that grin that he can’t say no to.

“Ugh, fine. I’m only doing this ‘cause you want me to, Y/N.” Peter reluctantly stepped up, taking the crumpled up Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice mini movie poster and aimlessly throwing it. Miraculously, it landed in the trash fifteen feet away.

Cheers erupted from the crowd of teen workers, and suddenly everyone was high-fiving and fist-bumping Peter. You went on about how you just knew he could do it and how proud you were and how far he had come. You threw your arms around Peter in a big hug. He hugged you back, smiling wider than he thought was possible until he spotted a dark gaze from someone standing nearby. Josh.

“Peter! If you want dinner, there’s pasta in the fridge for you!” A faint voice from downstairs briefly jolted him back to reality.

“O-Okay! Thanks, May!” Peter called back before returning to his thoughts.

Maybe if he’d written you sooner rather than waiting so long, or if he’d taken his chance when he could, something would’ve been different. Maybe if you hadn’t moved away.

Peter stood nervously in front of the theater. It was about mid-July and he decided he wanted to do something about his massive crush on you. So, courageously, he’d asked if you wanted to hang out sometime. In his hand was a single white rose. Earlier, one of its thorns had pricked his thumb, so now a Captain America themed band-aid was wrapped around it.

He stood there, watching as the sun shining above started to make him sweat. He smiled awkwardly to people going in and out, but paused when he heard something. He turned the corner to see something he wished he’d never seen.

You were entangled in Josh’s arms, and you were kissing him. You laughed your beautiful laugh, the one Peter had imagined hearing when you saw him with the rose. “No, babe, I have to go. I can’t leave Peter waiting. He’s my best friend.” You chuckled and gave Josh a tight hug. Over your shoulder, he looked at Peter. Slowly, his face contorted into a smug smile. It was the same one Peter had been given when Josh played his first prank on him.

Unable to do anything else, Peter fled the scene. He tossed the rose into the first trash can he could find and ran. He ran as fast as he could until he got home. May looked confused.

“Back already? Where’s Y/N? And the rose?”

Peter gave no response as he stood there for a moment, panting. Finally, he went upstairs and locked himself in his room.

He brings his hand to his face, inspecting the scar on his thumb. Peter thinks the scar is just a reminder of why he doesn’t need to contact you anymore. You’re fine. You probably found yourself another Peter and another Josh.

Peter wonders how he was so oblivious to Josh that whole time. It’s only in retrospection that he remembers how much you talked about Josh to him. Or how you sneaked glances at him while making batches of popcorn and giggled.

He vividly remembers the last letter you wrote him, nearly two months ago. The only thing on the entire sheet of paper was a date. That date is today. Your signature, a cute collection of squiggles ending in a few hearts, was absent. But there’s no mistaking that handwriting for anyone else’s.

Peter nearly drove himself crazy trying to figure out what it meant. Is the date a memory of something that happened last year today? Is it a warning? There’s no way that it’s a threat. Or, to be optimistic, is it the day that you’re coming back? His stomach had taken a sick turn when he wondered if it was a suicide note.

Now? Well, it’s almost nine PM. And nothing happened. Is this some kind of joke? Is it supposed to be funny, but Peter just took it too seriously?

“Peter, are you okay?” You asked gently. Peter quickly wiped away a tear, but he gave himself away with his flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“I-It’s okay,” he said, trying to muster up a smile. It wasn’t okay. He didn’t get the joke. He didn’t know why it was so funny for him to get popcorn butter dumped on his head. As a prank.

“No, it’s not,” you shook your head. “I told Josh to use popcorn, not the butter. Maybe he didn’t hear me right or something…” You sat down next to him on the floor of the back room.

Peter wanted so badly to tell you. He wanted to tell you about the cruel smile Josh had on his face as he dumped the bucket of butter on him. He wanted to tell you everything. But he didn’t, because he knew how heartbroken you would be. He couldn’t bear to see you stop smiling.

“It’s okay, Y/N, it really is,” Peter reassured you instead.

“Here, I’ll cover you for the rest of your shift. You go home and wash up, okay? And then we can hang out,” you grinned. It worked instantly, and soon, Peter was smiling too.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yeah, same here, Parker Peter.”

You were the light of his life. You always made him so happy, except for now. This whole day, Peter has been anxious and worried that something bad will happen. Maybe it is just another old prank. But he can’t help but think something was supposed to happen that didn’t. There’s a strange feeling in his gut telling him there’s something he’s missing.

Or maybe the only thing he’s missing is you.

The back room had become Y/N and Peter’s spot. No one really hung around in there, so they occupied the space when they had nothing better to do. They would just sit in silence on their phones, only disrupting the quiet to show each other memes. Other days, they’d talk about everything there was to talk about. It was a place that harbored good memories. The tiny back room with nothing more than shelves with extra uniforms and a table.

It was good until Y/N dragged him back there to talk about something important. There was a worried look in your eyes, and you were more energetic than usual. But this time, it was nervous energy.

“I need to tell you something, Pete,” you said quietly, jaw set.

Peter was worried, to say the least. The only other time he’d seen you like that was when you were talking about how stressed you were recently. You were trying to juggle your job, family, friends, and your boyfriend all at once. Things were getting difficult.

“I’m moving.” You finally blurted out. Peter’s heart sank as soon as you said this.

“W-What d’you mean you’re moving?” He couldn’t believe what you’d just said. He felt himself going numb with shock.

“I mean moving. Out of the city. Far away.” Peter felt the soul-crushing weight of what was going to happen. No more hours spent in the back room, laughing and chatting away. He wouldn’t get to hear your laugh ever again. He wouldn’t be able to be near your positive energy. And he would get to see you up close anymore. You’d become a distant memory, and maybe one day he’d even forget what you looked like.

You didn’t cry. You weren’t that kind of person. But Peter knew you felt it too. A claw wrapped around your hearts, squeezing as hard as it could. It was heartache.

“Does anyone else know?” Peter asked solemnly.

Your face fell at this. “Uh…yeah. I told Josh. H-He said he didn’t ‘do’ long distance relationships and dumped me. I just, uh. Thought I meant a little more to him.” You swallowed and looked at Peter.

He hugged you, arms tight around you. He wished he’d never have to let go. “Oh, Y/N,” was all he said. He thought about telling you the truth about Josh now, but he didn’t. The words never came out. He kept his mouth shut.

Peter grabs his phone and opens Instagram. He goes to your account. The last picture posted was also two months ago. It’s a picture of you sitting at the edge of a pool with a grey pitbull in your arms. You’re grinning as wide as you can. The picture is captioned, ‘The only guy worth keeping around!’

What happened? Why did you go AWOL on the world? Or did you do it on purpose?

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” You exclaimed as he rubbed his arm.

“So you’re telling me it was a total accident that you punched me.” It didn’t hurt that bad anymore, but he knew it was going to ache later.

“Uh…yeah…?” You gave him a sheepish smile. “Here, I’ll kiss it to make it better.” You slid up the sleeve of his t-shirt and placed a kiss on the warm skin by his shoulder.

Peter stared at you, unable to form words for a few seconds. “Man, my cheek really hurts,” he finally joked, turning his cheek towards you.

You looked confused for a moment before you started laughing. You pecked his cheek and grinned. “Better?”

“Much, much better,” Peter laughed with you. He felt like he could run ten miles, he was so happy.

Peter recalls May’s reaction to you leaving. She was sad that you wouldn’t get to have dinner with her and Peter again, or sit and play board games all day. You ruled at Monopoly.

He glances back at his phone to look at the picture of you. You look a little older, and you grew your hair out. You’re just as beautiful as he remembers, if not more.

There were days spent staying on the phone for hours and hours, sometimes even falling asleep with his phone in hand. You told him everything about your new life, and he told you everything about his life. Well, almost everything. He didn’t tell you about Spider-Man.

And then, one day, you stopped picking up. For the first few days, Peter just thought you were busy. For you, especially, life had a habit of tripping you up. But weeks went by with no response. Just one cryptic letter with a mysterious date written in black ink, which you never write in. That’s all he has left of you.

“You have to call me at least every weekend. I want to know everything! And text me all the time,” you reminded Peter.

He didn’t need a reminder, but he nodded anyway, a sad smile on his face.

“I have an idea. Let’s write each other letters.”

“What do you mean? Like in the mail?”

“Exactly! It’s so old-fashioned and cool. Like sending messages to each other by carrier pigeon, hand-written and signed and all.”

“The last passenger pigeon died in 1914.”

“I did not sign up for your nerdy ass to ridicule me like this, Parker Peter!” You make a face at him but laugh anyway.

“It was in the fine print,” Peter winked.

You threw your arms around him for the last time. “God, Pete, I’m gonna miss you so much,” you mumbled into his shoulder, the one you punched only a few weeks before.

“I’ll miss you more, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair. You didn’t let go for the longest time, but when you did, a smile was on your face.

“Write me in case I don’t make any friends, okay?” You said as you slid your sunglasses onto your face.

“Please. You’ll make friends. But I will anyway.”

You turned to leave but stopped. You quickly ran back and gave Peter a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t forget about me. I’ll be back one day.”

“I couldn’t forget you if I tried.”

Peter sighs. Who is he kidding? He’s foolish to think something would really happen. Two months and no word from you. Why would some enigmatic date on a piece of paper mean anything?

He loosens the tie around his neck, feeling stupid. He should just focus on what’s happening in his life. But Peter just can’t let go of you, because you told him to remember.

Maybe that’s all you’re supposed to be. A memory.

.

.

.

.

Somewhere nearby, but not close enough for Peter to notice, sits a shadowed figure in a crouching position. Her suit keeps her blended into the night. She’s watching him pace around his room. His phone is still opened to a picture of a girl. She feels something inside of her, like she’s supposed to remember something but doesn’t. A long gone memory begins to resurface.

_______________________

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[Flashback] JJL - Save me, NOW

Might as well begin my first post here with my worst/funniest/creepiest date experience. Let’s go back to Spring of 2016. I was on a roll with fun dates back to back from Tinder, Coffee Meets Bagel and even a mutual friend. I was starting to enjoy first dates! it was fun getting to know someone, learning about what people would like to know about me, messing with their brain and sometimes telling innocent lies. It was exciting and I loved the adrenaline rush.

One day, I matched with a guy on Coffee Meets Bagel. We chatted on the app for a bit, very casual back and forth. I noticed that we had one mutual friend from college, someone I KNEW, but was NOT close with, which is why I said yes to a date in the first place! The mutual friend is relevant in this story so we’ll call him “Dancer Boy”. He asked me where my favorite bar was. I told him about this dingy corner bar where they had awesome beer selection, but it was cash only. We set a date. And the night came.

I arrive first, and I’m waiting by the door. From the end of the street, I see a shadow of a shorter guy. Didn’t think much until he started waving at me. It was him. His profile said he was 6′1″. He was shorter than me. He lied by a FOOT. His height wasn’t what disappointed me, I’ve gone on many amazing dates with shorter guys! But he lied (by a FOOT), and that was not a good start.

We sit by the bar, I order my favorite beer, and the first thing this guy says is,  “Sorry I’m late, I just came from a company outing and had a couple drinks already”. Oh. Okay, that’s great, wonderful. But here is the second thing he says.  “Hey, I noticed you’re close with “Dancer Boy”! We’re good friends since high school!” To that, I responded, “Not really, I just know him from college.” Him: “Wait, but you went to his graduation! You took a photo with him. I saw it on your facebook.” …..Well. We ALL facebook stalk, but no one BLATANTLY mentions it as a hello on a first date! Me: “Oh…I was close with other people in his class, so maybe that’s why you saw that photo!” Him: “But you also danced with him a few times for KASA right? I’ve seen the videos” This is when I realized something was off about this guy. Go ahead, facebook stalk all you want, but…please don’t TELL ME about it all! Him: “I’m driving back to Chicago in a couple weeks. You should come on the road trip with me so we can visit “Dancer Boy” together!” And this was in the first 2 minutes of our conversation. I knew the date was going to be bad the moment I saw his shadow, but the moment this guy opened his mouth, everything got worse.

You would think this may be the worst part, but oh no, you are so wrong.

He whips out his phone. Opens facebook messenger. And messages “Dancer Boy” right in front of me - “Hey guess who I’m on a date with? You know JJL?” I thought I was in a prank. Everything as a blur. I chugged my beer down and asked for another. I guess “Dancer Boy” was near his phone, because he responded very quickly, with something awkward like, “oh haha, that’s cool” or something. Maybe it was something else, but my brain has done a good job of trying to block out my bad memories from this night so I might be distorting me memories a little here.

After I chugged the first beer down, we continued to talk, and I was trying to figure out how to run away from this date. I looked at the time, barely 30 minutes past. What’s a good excuse? Should I just run for it?

My chance came when he said he needed to use the rest room. I took my phone out, called my roommate and without even saying hello, I told her to call me in exactly 10 minutes, no questions. She knew I was on a date, so she agreed.

He came back to the bar, and sat down, but….when he sat down, he put his hand on my thigh…I crossed my legs to get his hand off. All I was thinking was “Is it 10 minutes yet? Okay, just a few more minutes and I’ll be out of here. Almost there.”  It felt like ETERNITY. Then there it was. Louder than a school bell, my phone started to ring on the table where I purposely left it. I picked up and made up some bullshit excuse about a birthday party and hung up. My roommate on the other line was silent, just casually listening to me making up things and responding to my own statements. It was perfect.

When we were about to leave, he realized he didn’t have any cash on him, but insisted that he wanted to buy tonights drinks. I did NOT have the patience, so I took out my money, paid for both of our drinks and headed out. Boy was I unlucky, because his walk to the train station was the same direction as my apartment. I continuously rejected his offer to walk me home, and when we said our goodbyes, he came in for a hug. I thought it was a hug. But then his face came VERY close to mine and I realized he was coming in for a kiss. So I couldn’t take it anymore. So I literally pushed him back and said, “NO. Bye.” and walked away without turning back. It was so satisfying.

That night, I get a super long text from him apologizing for his “behavior” and begging to take me out for a nice dinner. But he earned his spot on my “Blocked” numbers for the first time in a couple years.

All in all, I walked away alive from the date having chugged two great beers and a great dinner/party conversation topic.

- JJL

[eulahboser401-blog]

Boost The Mental Link With Your Male

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