#hes the reason all the pizzas are made out of old slices of pizza

[legend-had-it]

Luffy would be the type to make all his friends work at chuck e cheese with him

[andypantsx3]

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 3 of 4

Then

“I want to climb trees, this is so boring,” Touya complained, face down on the sofa.

You flung a piece of plastic pizza at him, laughing when it bounced off his back. Touya turned to give you the evil eye, daggers in his gaze.

“Keigo and Rumi will be here soon, can you just wait?” you asked.

On your other side, Shouto made an unhappy grunt, leaning out from behind you to give Touya a narrow-eyed little gaze. “Y/N is busy. Do not interrupt,” he said primly.

Touya grunted. “Y/N isn’t yours, you little shit. Y/N is my friend.”

Shouto puffed up next to you, little hand gripping your shirt. “Y/N is mine, Touya.” His mismatched gaze was intense where it fixed on his older brother, like he was trying to set him on fire with his eyeballs.

You shifted in between them with years of long practice, blocking their line of sight. Brothers.

“I really want to play house, if only someone would stop arguing and play with me,” you said, making sure to sound extra pathetic. That always got Shouto.

As expected, he immediately abandoned Touya, patting you as if to reassure you. “Of course I will play with you, Y/N,” he pronounced solemnly, like he was declaring some oath of office.

You snorted, turning back to Shouto’s kitchen playset with him. It had been Touya’s first, several years ago when you first visited the Todoroki house. Back then he still deigned to play with it, bossing you around like the alpha of the house, though you didn’t quite think he was going to grow up as one. Then you’d gotten too old for it, preferring video games or board games or ranging around the neighborhood, up to little good.

Today was a rare day that Keigo was permitted to come out and run around the neighborhood with you, but you had to wait for him to get here first with Rumi. And so you’d allowed Shouto to drag you over to the kitchen set while you waited, he its final owner.

“What shall I make you, Mr. Todoroki?” you asked Shouto, shifting the little plastic frying pan around on the wooden stove top. “I make a mean sliced banana. Or a sandwich, or chicken.”

Shouto moved to sit next to you, peering at his options. “I want to make it with you.”

You smiled. “You don’t want me to cook it for you?”

Shouto shook that mop of scarlet and white hair. “I want to do it together.”

You laughed. “Alright, then how about you cut up the veggies for our sides and our sandwich, and I’ll cook the chicken.”

Shouto laid out a myriad of plastic vegetables on the counter, levering his plastic knife through the velcro in their center with great concentration. You tried not to reach out and pinch his cheek for how cute he was. You didn’t understand how Touya got so annoyed with all his younger siblings when they were this sweet.

You got to work frying your plastic pile of chicken, laying it out on fake plates across the carpet when you were done. Shouto carefully placed the sliced vegetables next to it, and then the two of you bent over the pieces of a sandwich, layering in the plastic onion, tomato, lettuce, and bread.

“Shall we make you up a plate, Touya?” you asked. Touya just flashed you a rude gesture from the couch.

“This is only for you,” Shouto insisted, pushing your plate at you. You grinned down at him, passing over the fake cutlery.

“Well thank you, chef Shouto. I am honored to be worthy enough of your cooking,” you said.

Shouto’s little cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed. He pretended to take a bite out of his sandwich, and then a swig out of his fake bottle of milk.

“So, how was work?” he asked, out of nowhere.

You blinked at him, then startled into another laugh. Oh, so he wanted to play real house, like you were married. So funny.

You pretended to take a thoughtful bite of your own meal. “Very busy and tiring,” you said. “I couldn’t wait to come home.”

Shouto scooted a little bit closer to you, pushing some of his fake veggies at you, their velcro innards rolling. “You need to eat a lot to keep your energy,” he pronounced. “Until I can make enough money that you do not have to work so hard.”

You grinned. So he thought he was going to be the breadwinner, huh? Not super traditional for an omega, but times were changing. You couldn’t imagine an alpha who wouldn’t want to provide for sweet little Shouto, though, so that was something he and his life mate were going to have to negotiate.

“We’re already rich, idiot,” Touya said from the couch. “Mom said we all have an inheritance.”

Shouto’s eyebrow twitched, like he was annoyed Touya was intruding on this private domestic discussion.

“Then you can have my inheritance,” he insisted to you, though you knew he had absolutely no idea what that meant.

You pretended to think on this.

“What if I use some of it to open my bookstore, and then pay you back the profits?” you asked.

Touya thought your dream of a bookstore was stupid, so you anticipated his annoyed grunt from the couch. But you still liked the idea of it. Ever since you were little, you’d wanted to own one of the brick-faced shops right along the waterfront, somewhere you could walk to from your house. You’d pile it high with thousands of books and plants and string-lights and have all your friends come over after hours to hang out.

You didn’t want to leave your hometown like so many people did. You wanted to make a home right here on the coast, where you could watch over your mom and hang out with Shouto and Touya and Keigo and Rumi.

Though these days you’d become aware that starting a business required upfront money first. Hopefully you would figure out how to get some by the time you graduated highschool. But the Todoroki inheritance would work nicely for your fantasy bookstore.

“You do not have to pay me back the profits,” Shouto insisted. “If we are married.”

You laughed. “Right, right. Then they’re our profits.”

“This is sickening,” Touya said, his voice muffled into a pillow.

You wiggled your eyebrows at Shouto, considering saying something that would bait Touya, but then the doorbell rang. Touya shot up off the couch, rushing over to let in his saviors.

“Looks like Keigo and Rumi are here,” you told Shouto. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”

Some tiny flicker crossed Shouto’s serious little face, something like annoyance, which you so rarely saw on him. “I want to make it together again.”

You nodded, patting his fluff of multicolored hair. “Yeah, we’ll do it again. Next time we’ll even do dessert, okay?”

Shouto looked momentarily appeased. “And you’ll eat it all. So you have energy.”

You laughed, yanking on one of the strands of his hair fondly. “Absolutely. You take such good care of me, Shouto.”

A pleased little smile turned the corner of his mouth. He placed a hand on your knee as you heard Keigo and Rumi spill into the house, the rustle of Rumi and Touya immediately tussling.

“I will take good care of you always,” Shouto said seriously. “You have my word.”

“I trust it,” you said. And you knew he meant it.

Todoroki Shouto was such a sweet boy, and he was going to make someone a very good not-pretend husband one day. You waved to him as Rumi looped a nut-brown arm over your neck, pulling you outside.

These days, you’d been aware that life was not going to be as stable as you’d always assumed it would be as you grew up. But you hoped you’d still be around to see Shouto grow up too, married and happy like that with his own real life partner some day.

You wondered where you would be when that finally happened.

Now

The next few days proved a test of your resolution to be normal about Shouto.

Everywhere you went, it seemed like Shouto was there—or maybe you were the problem, finding yourself drawn to wherever he was.

You took meals at the Todoroki house a couple more times, eating them out of house and home like you had as a teen—Shouto always stopping by too to eat something on his way on or off a shift. Twice your morning runs had taken you by the fire station, only to see a pair of mismatched eyes tracking you curiously from the engine bay, burning hot on your back as you quickly scurried away, feeling insane.

Shouto joined Touya when he met you and Rumi and Keigo for drinks one evening, Touya looking just as chagrined to have his baby brother tagging along as he had when you were kids.

“Shouto-duty,” he’d growled, the same as when you were little and he was charged with Shouto’s care. Shouto’s face had gone carefully blank, the paragon of innocence, and you’d laughed as he angled himself into the booth across from you.

Of course you’d quickly shut up when he’d pressed his calf up against yours, his long legs unfurling under the table. You’d quickly jerked your leg aside to make space for him, but he stretched out further, an ankle pressing to yours. He didn’t seem to mind, although it made your face warm for some reason.

Shouto had been good company, and had patiently endured Rumi’s hair ruffling and Keigo’s incessant teasing. He’d even walked you home at the end of the evening, like a protective alpha, even though you were not an omega and could damn well take care of yourself. And he’d lingered as you’d unlocked the door, smiling his tiny, careful little smile, and looking almost like he was waiting for something.

You’d bitten out a strangled good night and quickly barricaded yourself inside the house, lest you do something stupid.

That had the unfortunate effect of making you feel even more like a girl returning home from a date, however, and your mother had been almost beside herself with glee when she’d caught a hint of Shouto’s scent as you’d jerked the door closed behind you.

“An alpha?” she’d prompted again, abandoning her soap opera to lean over the couch arm eagerly.

“It’s just Shouto,” you’d explained hastily, waving your arms, a little loose with the drinks you’d had. “It’s not anything.”

Your mother’s eyebrows had gone up. “I thought he was your child bride.”

You hissed, shushing her, casting a stricken glance at the open window. You hoped Shouto had turned around immediately and gotten out of hearing range or you were going to have to kill your own mother.

“He is like my orderly, helping me off the shuttle back into the retirement home,” you said, turning and emphatically shedding your jacket and shoes, effectively ending the conversation.

But that hadn’t been the end of it. You’d seen Shouto a million times more since then, culminating in a final sighting the night before the run.

You’d ducked out to the grocery, intent on gathering up a day’s worth of supplies for the run. For most people it was over within a few hours—omegas had a thirty minute head start but usually went no further than a mile out, the ritual no longer the strict test of a mate it might have been back before things like showers and wifi and nine-to-fives were invented. But you always went to the coast, a hike of at least an hour or two, and you needed to stay up your tree for at least a few more while the more daring omegas who’d come out around you were summarily hunted down and properly bedded.

With the hike back accounted for, it usually took up most of the day, and you’d long learned your time was best spent with a book, a few bottles of water, and several snacks on hand.

You recognized Shouto’s distinctive mop of hair and broad shoulders as soon as you turned onto the produce aisle. He’d seemed somehow to sense you already—though betas were notoriously harder to scent than omegas—mismatched eyes already pinned to you as you rounded the corner.

You startled, your basket jerking in your grip.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, sidling up to him.

Shouto watched you approach, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Y/N,” he intoned, peering curiously into your basket. A long-fingered, elegant hand reached out to touch the snacks you’d gathered there, everything but the apple you’d been targeting when you’d turned into this aisle.

“For the run?” Shouto guessed, eyes darting back up to catch yours.

You could feel your face flushing in acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of your participation. “Yes,” you said, dredging up a grin. You were happy to see him. “With any luck, and a heaping dollop of guilt, hopefully my last ever. I’m going all out.”

Something flickered behind Shouto’s eyes, a sort of glint you’d never seen before. For some reason the hair on the back of your neck raised. Maybe an alpha thing.

“With any luck,” he repeated, his voice rich, strangely deep.

You wiggled your basket of snacks at him. “What about you? Making preparations for the big day?”

Shouto’s eyes followed the basket as you dropped it back down to your side. “Yes. I was hoping to make something, for after.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a wave of helpless affection for him rising in you. “For your life mate? To take them home to?”

Shouto nodded, his scarlet and white strands falling into his eyes. He was so, so good.

You couldn’t help but reach out and pinch him, right on his rib cage. “You are too pure to be related to your family.”

Shouto blinked, eyelashes fluttering. His gaze was a little darker where it caught yours again. “I would not be so sure.”

You took a step back, slightly startled by this assertion. Another flush heated your cheeks, and you pinched him again for good measure. “Respect your elders’ opinions, brat.”

Shouto’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, catching your fingers in his before you could do too much damage. Your heart hammered to a stop in your chest, your hand suddenly burning beneath his.

“Let me make you something,” he said, his tone dipping low again.

A surprised breath escaped you. “Like lunch? For tomorrow?”

Shouto watched you for a long moment before answering. “That, as well.”

“Oh, then you meant like, for dinner tonight?” You frowned, wracking your brain for his meaning, and coming up short.

That wry little smile played about Shouto’s mouth again. “Yes, dinner tonight, too.”

You squinted at him, unclear what he was trying to do here. “Touya says you’re a shit cook and that’s why you come eat all Rei’s cooking.”

Shouto’s face went pointedly blank. “I am passable.”

“I’ve heard conflicting reports.”

“Then perhaps you can help me.” Shouto’s fingers curled around yours more tightly. “I will purchase, and you direct the operation.”

Your mind suddenly flickered back, catching the wisp of an afternoon years ago, bent over Shouto’s fake plastic cookware, a tiny, round-faced Shouto insisting he’d provide for you. Cooking together, you directing Shouto to cut the plastic veggies along their velcro strips while you diligently fried your plastic chicken. Your heart swelled.

“In the interest of you not food poisoning your life mate your first night together, I’m willing to show you a thing or two,” you said, peering up at him, feeling slightly giddy.

Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I will watch carefully.”

You grinned. “Alright. What are we thinking for meals then?”

It turned out Shouto already had a plan in mind—fried chicken karaage, with marinated vegetable sides, and for lunch some jam-packed wanpaku sandwiches to keep your energy up out in the preserve tomorrow. He made a second pass through the snack aisle, seeming to pull in doubles or triples of everything you’d collected in your basket so far. Then he even snuck in two pieces of chocolate cake in the bakery section, crowned with little dollops of fresh whipped cream.

Shouto dumped your entire basket into his as well, holding you off with a strong arm when you made a grab for it, and ignored your protests all the way through checkout.

“Shouto, that’s my lunch, I should pay,” you insisted, getting a little hot in the face again when he was easily able to fend you off with one arm despite your genuine efforts. God, that was—you needed to not think about that.

“I once promised to take good care of you,” Shouto said, leading the way out of the store. You followed, realizing you had no idea where he lived now.

“You were a baby. You also promised me your entire inheritance,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Plus starting tomorrow you are going to have a life mate to provide for.”

Shouto turned to look down at you, eyes dragging down your face. “I will.”

“Okay then we’re agreed,” you said, digging around in your bag for his change. Shouto’s stride lengthened, however, like he was trying to dodge you. You hurried after him, swearing like Touya, and found yourself all but chasing him towards the waterfront, suddenly freezing when Shouto turned onto one of the shop-lined streets, stopping just before a familiar little brick building.

“Shouto—you live above this?” you asked, creeping forward to look in through the window.

The shop stood empty, as it had the day you’d graduated high school, but you could see it was well-maintained, new flooring installed in a warm light wood and windows shined to crystal clarity. “I used to be obsessed with this place, this is where I thought my bookshop was going to be!” you said, unsure if you were talking to Shouto or yourself.

The soft clink of Shouto’s key paused in the door. “I know,” he said. “I remember you telling me.”

You turned back to him, smiling. “That was a million years ago and you were like, barely out of the womb.”

Shouto’s eyes pinned you with an alarming intensity, grey and blue points burning through you. “I remember everything you have ever told me.”

Your breath wooshed out of you, leaving you startlingly vulnerable. You desperately scrambled for verbal cover. “I—you are so full of it. You weren’t even speaking words yet when I met you.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked again, and he gestured you inside. You followed behind him, trying not to admire the way his broad shoulders filled up the breadth of the stairwell, the way his thighs bunched in his jeans as he took the stairs.

No. That way lay danger.

Shouto’s apartment had the same lovely blonde wood across the floors as the shop downstairs, and a huge bay window overlooking the coast where you imagined you could see the sun come up over the water in the mornings. The rest of the apartment was modern in style, though strangely minimalist, as though Shouto hadn’t filled it with very many of his own things.

“My life mate will need room,” he explained, unloading the groceries on the counter.

Your heart twisted at that, and you purposefully set about drinking in your fill of Shouto’s space before someone else filled it in for him. You admired the large, cushiony couch, chosen as if Shouto had imagined a thousand nights cuddled up on it with someone else, what appeared to be a super old but working fireplace, and the neatly arranged rows of hanging copper pots, which you could tell almost never got used.

It smelled like him, his alpha scent everywhere, like sweet campfire smoke on a cold breeze. It made you want to curl up in here and never leave.

“It’s amazing, Shouto. Your mate is going to just die over this,” you said, totally charmed.

You tried hard to ignore the little tinge of jealousy souring your gut.

Shouto’s gaze flashed up to yours, his long fingers arranging the groceries neatly on his countertops. “I would prefer if no one died,” he said solemnly.

You laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I had hoped you would like it,” Shouto said, something pleased in his deep tone.

“I love it. You’ll have to invite me back over next time I’m in town,” you said.

Shouto’s fingers hesitated over a tomato, and a small, shy sort of smile pulled at his mouth as he peered down at it. “Perhaps even sooner.”

You blinked, mystified. You weren’t going to have time before you left for the city again, not with the run tomorrow, and definitely not if Shouto spent the traditional several days curled up here with his life mate afterwards.

“Yeah sometime,” you said vaguely, trying not to think too hard on it.

You had sort of enjoyed being Shouto’s favorite when you were kids, your time and attention prioritized even above Touya’s. But Shouto was all grown up now and it was time for him to have a new favorite—you probably hadn’t been his since you’d graduated and disappeared into the city to generate parental support money. It had been years.

“Anyway let’s get this stuff prepped, sous-chef Shouto,” you said, coming around the counter to his side. “I’m thinking the old plan of attack—you slice the veggies, I’ll fry the chicken?”

Shouto’s mouth pulled in a wider smile than you’d seen in a long time, a heart-stoppingly handsome flash of white. You gripped the counter carefully.

“I’d like that,” he said.

He set himself up with a knife and a cutting board, and set you up with a few small bowls for breading, flour, and egg. You noticed he sliced his vegetables a little more dexterously than the velcro veggies of years past—though certainly not expertly. The two of you worked in easy tandem as you whisked the egg, then laid all your chicken pieces out as you waited for the pot on the stove to warm.

The peace was only broken when Shouto suddenly leaned over you, bringing with him a puff of that delicious campfire scent. Your breath reflexively seized in your lungs as you froze, hyperaware of him as his hand went to the side of your hip. He gently pulled you out of range of one of his drawers, moving you like you were an expected piece of his kitchen—like his life mate he was long-used to dancing around, pressing close enough that you could feel the heat of him.

Something like electricity spiked across all of your nerve endings. You tried not to shiver with the feeling of Shouto’s soft exhale over your shoulder, the heavy weight of his hand on your hip as he slid open one of his drawers.

It took you a few moments to recover enough that you realized he’d been pulling out plastic wrap. He hadn’t been curled over your back just for the intimacy of it—god, you were such a fucking creep.

You peeled yourself out of Shouto’s hands and beat a hasty retreat to his fridge, scrounging around for the ingredients you’d need to make the vegetable seasonings. The warm kabocha and fried chicken were going to make perfect leftovers for Shouto and his mate to scarf down after a windy run along the coast tomorrow.

Maybe you’d try to make something similar when you made it back to your mom’s tomorrow. Although, come to think of it, you didn’t really want to be reminded of Shouto stuffed up back here with someone else.

A frown pulled at your mouth, and you pinched your thigh, gathering yourself back together. What Shouto did with his own life mate was none of your business. You needed to remember that.

When Shouto finished cutting up the vegetables you helped him arrange everything into two enormous sandwiches, then covered in plastic wrap and stowed in his fridge to set. He watched you carefully as you fried the chicken, hovering closely behind you like a tall, handsome shadow. You fought against some strange impulse to lean back against his chest, watching the chicken burble in the oil with an intense focus. Shouto didn’t seem to mind the sudden quiet, smiling a small half-smile when you turned back to him.

When it seemed ready, you fished the chicken out, setting it on paper towels to absorb the excess. Shouto followed you, taking hold of your face as you turned back to him.

You froze for the second time, pulse racing, as his fingers came up to brush along your cheek, just under your eye. The touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze swept over you assessingly. He seemed to linger for a long moment—until he came away with flour across his thumb.

A weird sense of disappointment twisted your gut as Shouto looked it over. How embarrassing.

“Oh, thanks,” you managed to say, swiping at your face yourself.

Shouto’s mouth quirked softly. “As I said, I did once promise to take care of you.”

Your face went warmer, and you deliberately did not think about how much you liked that. The only person taking care of you was you, and it was going to have to be that way for the foreseeable future. Flour was only flour.

“Again, you were a baby. You needed taking care of more than me,” you accused.

Shouto shifted closer, an intent look settling over his features. “I am not a child any longer.”

That much was upsettingly clear these days. But that was beside the point.

“Neither of us are,” you agreed. “And I assure you, other than the occasional flour mishap, I am excellent at taking care of myself now. You on the other hand, with all these unused pots…”

Shouto’s eyes lingered on your face. To your horror he absently brought his thumb to his mouth, tongue barely flicking out to lick the flour—and that ended the discussion immediately.

Your face immediately flamed, overcome with shit you absolutely should not be thinking, and you shooed him away to fetch plates. Shouto let himself be shooed, looking contemplative.

When he returned with plates, you busied yourself serving up two large portions of rice, followed by crispy golden fried chicken, cucumber salad, and soft, steaming kabocha. It all looked excellent, if you did say so yourself, practically Michelin-starred compared to the plastic meal you’d made together all those years ago.

Shouto led you over to the coffee table and you both took positions on the floor, your back against his couch.

“This reminds me so much of when we were little,” you said, grinning. “Except the couch is mercifully devoid of any complaining.”

The indent at the side of Shouto’s mouth deepened. “I prefer the lack of Touya as well.”

You laughed, biting into your chicken, pleased when it tasted as good as it looked. Hopefully Shouto’s life mate was going to love it. Shouto looked like he liked it too, his long eyelashes fluttering over the tops of his cheekbones as he chewed. Your stomach flipped.

“So how was work?” you asked Shouto, flipping the script on him from when he was younger.

An electric blue eye cut sideways towards you, like he remembered too.

“Very busy and tiring,” he repeated, almost an exact parroting of your words, if you remembered correctly. “I could not wait to come home.”

“You really do remember a lot,” you said, impressed.

Shouto took a mouthful of squash, chewing neatly. Was it normal to look that pretty when eating?

“As I said,” he said, something slightly smug in his voice.

You rolled your eyes—Todorokis—and took your own mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully.

“You’re so similar and yet so different,” you informed him when you’d finished. “I’m sad I missed you graduating school, and the academy. You’ve really grown up into an amazing person, Sho.”

Shouto’s chopsticks wavered over his plate, and a pink flush stained his cheeks.

“I had always wanted you to think so, when we were younger,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on his plate.

You smiled. “You were so cute. I was always going to think so. Even when I thought you were going to grow up an omega and had no idea what career you might have wanted. You were just good, I think.”

The tip of Shouto’s ear went red, almost matching the left side of his hair.

You couldn’t help but continue, warmed by how much the praise clearly meant to him. “Touya was my best friend but I liked spending the time with you, even though you were that much younger. I am sorry I haven’t been able to stick around and spend more of it with you.”

Shouto took a deliberate bite of rice, like he was calming himself.

“Your job in the city,” he said, when he finished. “Do you like it?”

You shook your head, snorting. “It’s fine. If I had a say I’d be running that storefront just below us, but my job is at least guaranteed money for mom. I don’t mind, though I do regret not coming back here enough.”

Shouto seemed to take a moment to think on this. “But you would quit it, if you could,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But like I said, it’s not so bad. And it’s pretty good money for a single income if I do say so myself.”

Shouto turned to watch you. “It would be easier if you had your life mate,” he said.

You paused, considering the weight of this statement. “Well yeah. But as you know, not everyone finds theirs. And as a beta I’m sort of stuck waiting for my life mate to find me—I’ve sometimes wondered if any of those alphas I hid up a tree from were actually it, all those years ago. But something tells me no. So I’m doing my own thing in the meantime.”

“Do you hope to find your life mate, this time?” Shouto asked, pinning you with an intense look. He’d abandoned his food it seemed, watching you with singular focus. It was slightly unnerving.

You wondered how best to answer without making him pity you.

“I’ve always hoped, but I’ve never counted on it,” you said. “But one thing is for certain—I wouldn’t accept just anyone. I’m not going to end up like my parents did.”

Shouto’s fingers shifted on the table top, and he seemed to be holding them out to you. You carefully placed your hand in his, gratified when his hand closed over yours, thumb smoothing your skin.

“You are not,” Shouto said, sounding sure. “You will have a life mate who has cared for you and will care for you his whole life.”

He sounded like he meant it. He was so sweet all these years later.

You flushed, embarrassed by his declaration. “Okay. I’ll—trust you on that.”

Shouto looked satisfied, letting your hand go so you could return to your food. You both scarfed down the rest of your meals, like the two of you were storing up enough energy for tomorrow, and then Shouto pressed a slice of chocolate cake on you, too, insistent.

He watched you eat it with the supervisory focus of a mother—or an alpha with his omega, a thought that you immediately put back out of mind.

You let him feed you too much, happy for the extra time in his company, laughing and chatting and reliving shared memories. You insisted on helping him with the dishes, too, washing everything as he packed up the leftovers, and then sorted out your prepared sandwich and the snacks he’d purchased for you. He didn’t let you out of his sight even as he did so, moving in front of you to block your access to your bag when you remembered you owed him money.

Shouto kept hold of it on the way to the door, too, so you couldn’t dig out cash and fling it before running out—he really did know too much about you after all these years.

Once he surrendered your bag to you, he leaned forward, fingers finding the side of your face again, cupping it and turning it up to his.

You went perfectly, embarrassingly still in his hold, breath coming short. His thumb smoothed across your cheek, and a private little smile pulled at his mouth.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, his tone rich and dark, like the chocolate cake you’d just had.

You barely resisted a shiver, having to manually kickstart your lungs again, breathing in and out deliberately.

“Only if your life mate goes so far,” you said. “I hope for your sake they keep things easy.”

Shouto’s smile widened a bit. “They will not.”

You tried not to be too irritated at whoever it was. Only an idiot would make it so hard for an alpha like Todoroki Shouto.

“Well then, good luck,” you told him. “I’ll be on the lookout for you from my tree. And I’ll have snacks if you need them.” You rattled your bag.

Shouto’s eyes roved over your face, something warm in his gaze. “You will see me,” he said. “Though I do not plan to need any luck.”

Okay that was—he was not allowed to be that confident. That damn omega had no idea how lucky they were.

It took everything you had to wrench yourself away from him, only the knowledge that he was meant for someone else carrying you away. You made yourself salute him, smiling. Then you bid him good night, promising to text him when you got in, and scurried off to your mother’s house, trying to put yourself on the right track again.

You scolded yourself as you readied for bed, dropping a kiss on your mother’s head as you passed her asleep on the couch. You would not be a weenie about this. You were, at least, glad that Shouto was going to find his happiness tomorrow.

Even if you envied them even more tonight after seeing the life Shouto had built for them to share. Even if you wished, despite all odds, that you could find a life mate to share yours, too.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || Your Child Says Something Inappropriate

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

CHAN:

Chan had been looking forward to the weekend barbecue for weeks, you had gone all out on planning it together and even made sure all of the kids were entertained so the adults could relax. You wanted it to be perfect for him since it was a rare chance to hang out with his best friends, eat some good food, and catch up on life. 

"You okay?" You whisper to Chan as you place a soft kiss on his cheek, his hands busy as he attempts to set up the grill. Your six-year-old son, Rhys, was running around with the other kids, a bundle of energy and curiosity.

"Perfect, everything is perfect." He breathed out, kissing your cheek quickly. Chan flipped the burgers and turned to Changbin, who was recounting a hilarious story from their trainee days.

"Remember when you snuck all that food back to the dorms in your pants?!" Changbin laughed and you started to giggle, watching as Rhys came pouncing over to you.

"Hey, Dad!" Rhy's voice rang out, cutting through the noise. Chan turned to look at his son and couldn't help but smile at him.

"Yeah, buddy?" Chan called back, expecting another excited observation about the bugs he’d found or the cool fort he and the other kids had built, or even about the rocks he now had a growing collection over in his bedroom. Rhy's eyes were wide, and he wore a proud grin. 

"I told my friends what you said about Uncle Hyunjin's car!" he announced. You and Chan stared at each other, your eyes widened as you felt your stomach drop, you already knew that Chan was flipping through his mind to figure out what he'd said. 

"You said it's a piece of shit and should have been scrapped years ago!" The whole garden went silent as Hyunjin started to laugh a little, ruffling Rhys' hair with his hand and smirking over at Chan. 

"I've said worse about the heap of junk, don't worry about it." By now Chan was burning a bright red colour and it wasn't because of the barbecue below him.

"Me and you are going to talk about bad words," You told Rhys sternly, taking him into the house.

MINHO:

Minho and the boys were gathered in the living room, the aroma of pizza and wings mingling with the sound of laughter and the latest action movie playing on the TV. It was their monthly guys' night, a tradition they had maintained since Minho had moved in with you, it was the same night you would spend with your own friends. Cassian - your youngest son of seven years wandered into the room, his curiosity piqued by the laughter and commotion. The boys each greeted him and Chan reached out to ruffle the young ones' hair,

"Hey, buddy, you want a slice of pizza?" Jisung offered, pushing the box close to him but Cassian shook his head, his eyes twinkling as he glanced over at Minho. Minho smirked back at him and nodded his head,

"Actually, guys," Cassian began, glancing at his dad for a moment before turning back to the seven men who were now watching him, expecting to hear a story about his day,

"my dad says none of you has any idea how to pick a good movie." The room fell silent for a split second and then erupted in laughter. Changbin feigned a hurt expression, clutching his chest and grunting loudly as he laid back in the chair. 

"Oh, really? Your dad thinks he knows better, huh?" Minho leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smirk as Cassian got onto the seat beside his dad and ate a slice of pizza with a giant grin on his face. 

"Hey, don't blame me. The kid has a mind of his own." He smirks, high-fiving Cassian, Felix grinned, pointing at Minh. 

"Yeah, right. We all know where he gets that from." The room burst into laughter as they started to debate what movie was better, none of them ever settling on something they could all agree on.

CHANGBIN:

"Who's idea was this?" You groaned feeling the sun practically melting your skin as you lay in the shade. For some reason the boys had thought it would be a good idea to head to the beach, bringing their kids and your own to have a barbeque,

"I believe it was Changbins," Minho smirked as he turned to your husband at the grill. You were about to say something when Lily - your five-year-old - started yelling for you both to look over at her

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what I made!” she exclaimed, pointing down at a small sandcastle, with a flag on it. Your heart beamed as you watched how proud she was

“That’s awesome, sweetheart! You’re really good at this.” Changbin chuckled, Lily practically beamed at the praise and you turned to look back at the others.

"NOOOOO!" The cry practically screamed out of your daughter as you turned around to see the sandcastle now crumpled into the sand,

"Piece of fucking-" She yells and you drop your bottle of water, too stunned to even talk. Changbin's eyes widened, and he shot up, cutting her off mid-sentence. 

“Lily! Where did you hear that word?” He panicked, kneeling down in front of his daughter as you nervously looked at the others. But Lily looked confused and a little scared by her dad’s reaction. 

“From you, Daddy. You said it when you were talking to Uncle Hyunjin last time.” Changbin started groaning as he shook his head for being so careless when it came to throwing words like that around,

“Oh, uh, did I?” he stammered looking at you as you practically glared at him, silently letting him know he was in trouble later. 

“Well, that’s not a nice word, Lily. We shouldn’t say that, okay?” Lily nodded and Changbin let her go,

“Okay, Daddy. I’m sorry.” She whispers, kissing his cheek softly as he smiles, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her,

“It’s alright, sweetheart. Just remember, some words aren’t for little kids, okay?” She nods before running back over to the sand and starting to work on another sandcastle.

"I'm in trouble later, right?" Changbin asked as he leaned down to give you a kiss.

"Very much so," You smirk, kissing him again before sending him back to work.

HYUNJIN:

Hyunjin had been looking forward to this for months, ever since it had been announced that he could bring his son in to work he'd been planning what the two of them were going to do all day. Everyone was pretty excited to see Jamie in the work place, he was Hyunjin's youngest son and full of energy all of the time.

“Hey, Jamie,” Changbin called out, wrapping his arms around Jamie and picking him up.

"Wanna see what we've been working on?" He wriggles his eyebrows as the two of them walked into Changbin's studio and sat down at a huge desk. Jamie had always loved watching the boys work, even told you he wanted to be "just like daddy" when he got older and even did the dances...well, attempted to.

Hyunjin walked into the room as he watched Jamie, a huge headset on his head as he listened to the son, even pushing some buttons despite them doing nothing.

"God I love him, he's so curious.” Changbin bellowed out, looking as Jamie pushed the volume up before pulling the headphones off.

“Thanks, Binnie. He’s been looking forward to this all week.” Hyunjin chuckles, but as the room turns calm, Jamie suddenly questions,

“Dad, why does everyone say ‘work is a pain in the ass’?” Hyunjin grunted as he realised he must have heard what he'd said the night before to you,

"This is easy!" Jamie yells making everyone chuckle, Changbin had officially lost it and was laughing into his hands while Hyunjin groaned and walked closer to him to lecture him on bad words.

JISUNG:

"You're basically being forced against your will," Jeongin laughs as he, Jisung and Seungmin all walk into the mall, exchanging a look with each other but their eyes landed on Jisung's daughter. She was clutching his hand tightly and giggled 

"Whatever my princess wants, she shall get." Jisung laughed looking down at Emma who was buzzing with excitement.

“Ready to shop, kiddo?” He asked, smiling down at her as she jumped up and down on the spot, her eyes widened.

“Yeah, Dad!” Emma replied with a yell, the boys groaning as they followed the birthday girl.

They wandered through various stores, chatting and enjoying the relaxed atmosphere as Emma looked through all of the clothes for something she wanted. Jisung was in the middle of a conversation with Seungmin about the latest release they had coming out when they decided to check out a new gadget store. As they walked in, Emma tugged on Jisungs sleeve.

“Daddy, can we look at the toys?”

“Sure, sweetie,” He said, leading her towards the toy section and letting go of her hand. She rushed through the toys looking through all of them when suddenly, Emma’s voice rang out loudly and clearly, cutting through the hum of the store. 

“Daddy, this toy is a piece of crap!” The world seemed to stand still as Jisung felt his stomach twist and his throat dry. Bending down to her level he looked at her nervously,

“Emma, where did you hear that word?” He panicked and Emma stared at him, confused as to why he looked so upset,

"Mummy said it last week," Jisung smirked to himself, knowing he was going to get to lecture you later

"Well, we'll have a very long talk with Mum about that later, but don't say it again,"

FELIX:

"This is a dumb idea," You mumbled to Felix as he watched the kids run around together, You were all having a picnic out in the sunshine today with all of the kids. Something you weren't sure was the best idea since the kids weren't getting along all that well. Just last week you'd have to split up a fight between Chan's son and yours,

"Everything is going fine," Felix whispered as he looked at you, he knew how anxious you were about it, but your thoughts were interrupted by your daughter yelling over at you both,

"Daddy, Daddy! Look what I found!" Penelope exclaimed, holding up a shiny rock. You and Felix beamed at her, your hands holding onto the rock as she placed it into your hand,

"That’s great, baby. It’s very pretty." You giggled as Penelope smiled hugely at you, but just as quickly as the smile appeared it disappeared,

"Rhys said that the rocks are shit," The rocks slipped from your hands and onto the blankets at the mention of her brother's name followed by a curse.

"Penelope!" Felix yells softly, bringing her into his arms as he starts to beg her not to say it again. The boys all hide their smirks as you go to find Rhys and give him the same lecture.

SEUNGMIN:

Seungmin and Felix were babysitting tonight, well, Seungmin was looking after his own child and Felix was babysitting, Seungmin was running around like a headless chicken trying to clean as quickly as possible before you came home.

"Hey, Ben," Felix called out, 

"Which superhero is your favourite?" He chuckled, Seungmin thanked him for distracting him long enough while Seungmin cleaned the paint from the floor, scrubbing as hard as he could to lift the stains. Ben looked up with a serious expression, holding up his toy. 

"This one! Captain Marvel!" Felix grinned, pulling the toy and showing it off proudly. 

"Great choice! Captain Marvel is awesome." Seungmin smiled, watching his son interact with his friend, each of the boys was like an uncle to him but Ben was always closer to Felix than anybody else. 

Suddenly, Ben's action figure slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. Without missing a beat, Ben blurted out, 

"Fuck it!" The room went silent. Seugmins eyes widened in shock and he stopped scrubbing the floor and he felt his face flush. Felix winced, hearing the word fall so carefully from the little boy's lips.

"Where on earth did you hear that?" 

"Dad said it yesterday when he dropped his phone," Ben said, clearly not understanding what was wrong with everyone in the room. Seungmin quickly got up and traded place with Felix who began to scrub the floor. 

"Okay, buddy, but that's not a nice word to use. We should try to say 'oh no' or 'oops' instead, okay?" He looked at Ben who was now blushing and looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Okay, papa. I'm sorry." He nods his head, hugging him from the side,

"Now none of us will tell mum, right?" He asked both Ben and Felix - who was smirking from the floor.

"Promise." He winks making Ben laugh,

JEONGIN:

You knew this part was going to be a good idea the second your friends had invited you and you'd begged Jeongin to let the kids stay at home with a babysitter but he'd insisted on letting them come. 

"Emily!" You yelled out for her to come and eat but she ran straight past you and after her cousin while giggling wildly. The fizzy drinks she'd consumed finally getting to her. 

"Innie, go collect your daughter," You whine at him,

"She's your daughter too," He laughs, kissing your cheek before chasing after his daughter.

"Not when she's misbehaving," You grumble as Minho walks up to you, smirking as you glare at him. 

"Aren't you glad you bought her?" He teased you lightly, but as you were about to come back with a comeback Emily's voice rang out, loud and clear, cutting through the pleasant chatter. 

“Mommy says Uncle Minho's girlfriend drinks too much wine!” At that point you wanted the whole world to stop and eat you so you wouldn't have to deal with it. Minho's eyes darted over to you as Jeongin finally grabbed Emily and covered her mouth,

“Kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” You said, forcing a laugh as Minho chuckled deeply. But you were mortified, you hated that your words had been so easily spread.

"She's right," Minho's girlfriend laughs, nudging your arm softly to let you know it was all good between you both but it didn't stop you feeling shit.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @just-aelia @choisoorin @straykids5star @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @scarletemeterio @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @lensfilm @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopsstuffs @chaeyoungs @delulu18 @xyahrinx @katsukis1wife @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @blairscott @4-chan-inpadella @niktwazny303 @moonlight-the-writer @armystay89 @hadassahchan @yxngbxkkie

[upsidedownwithsteve]

dad!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

kidfic from the simmer verse 🍳 inspired by this ask/tiktok

When your daughter turned six, you and Eddie moved out of your apartment and into a home fit for a family. One with a big bay window and a huge garden, an oak tree out the back for Eddie to hang a swing from.

It came with a wrap around porch and the kitchen of Eddie’s dreams and Maeve got to pick the colour for her new bedroom, a mustard yellow that made her room feeling like an eternal summer. She was her daddy’s girl, a princess.

And then she turned twelve.

Eddie was in the kitchen when Maeve appeared, already so much taller than Eddie liked, her hair the same colour as yours but as curly as her fathers. She was just as pouty now, preteen hormones making her perpetually moody, sulking in corners and stealing away to her bedroom with Basil.

Now? Now she seemed to be on a mission.

“Dad?”

Eddie looked up from the cook book he was reading, tired eyed after an early morning meeting at the restaurant. They were making a new menu and Eddie had been worn thin, working too late and coming home to make you taste test all his new ideas. You never complained.

“Yeah, squish?”

“I’m hungry,” Maeve announced, sliding herself onto one of the barstools at the large island. Copper pots hung on a rack from the ceiling, casting bronze coloured reflections off of the girls cheeks. She still had freckles from the summer, a scratch on her chin from where uncle Argyle had tried to teach her how to skateboard. “Can you make me something?”

“Yeah, babe, sure,” Eddie wandered over to the fridge and he pulled out some containers. He wiggled one enticingly. “I made some mac ‘n’ cheese last night, you want me to hear some up?”

Maeve wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like mac ‘n’ cheese.”

Eddie’s face fell and his frown matched his daughters perfectly. If you’d been home from work, you would’ve laughed and called her his comeuppance.

“Well, you liked it fine last week.”

The twelve year old just shrugged, her legs swinging from her stool. “Well, I don’t anymore,” she replied with just as much indignation as her dad. “Can I get some pizza pockets?”

Now Eddie really did huff. The only reason the box of pastry abominations were in his freezer to begin with is because you’d done the last grocery shop. He narrowed his eyes at Maeve but moved to the freezer door when she giggled.

“We need to teach you some taste, kid,” Eddie tried to act stern. “How many you want? You starvin’?”

Maeve leaned onto her elbows and let her hands squish her cheeks. Her nails were black and glittery, painted carefully by you a few nights before and she’d proudly shown her dad her colour choice when he came home from work. “I don’t know, just two.”

“You don’t know?” Eddie questioned and he peered over his shoulder, the over door open. “You said you were hungry, babe. This is a meal for a hamster.”

Basil appeared at the mention of rodents, the black cat slinking into the kitchen to wind around Eddie’s ankles.

“I’ll have some chips too.” Maeve announced. “And some sliced apple, but only like, four slices, okay?”

Eddie blinked. “Four?”

“Yes, please.”

Well, at least she had manners. Eddie grumbled under his breath but did as told, shoving in the pizza horror before washing off an apple under the tap. He cut it as his girl watched, chomping every other slice until only four remained.

The timer on the oven had five minutes left. “Anything else, princess?”

Maeve seemed to ponder this question before she nodded, her little face as serious as could be. “Some grapes too, but just ten. And if there’s some baby bells left, I’ll have one. Oh, and seven gummy worms.”

Eddie’s lips were parted, his brows raised as he stared across the counter at his daughter. He didn’t know whether to laugh or call you and ask if this was some kind of prank he didn’t know about.

“What?”

Maeve blinked. “What?”

So Eddie huffed again and got out a plate, murmuring nonsense to himself as he gathered Maeve’s order, glaring playfully at her as he counted out exactly ten grapes. She grinned as she leaned over, laughing mischievously as she plucked one from the plate.

And when Eddie gasped, all theatrical, Maeve pointed to her plate and told him quite plainly around a mouthful of fruit, “dad, I said ten.”

Eventually, the timer beeped and two pizza pockets with oozing fake cheese were added to the plate. Eddie slid it over with a flourish, cackling when Maeve took offence to one gummy worm touching the pizza sauce that had leaked out. So he snatched it and shoved it into his mouth biting off the side with the sauce before dropping it back onto her plate.

“Dad! Ew!” Maeve gasped, throughly insulted but she slunk off her stool and Eddie flicked her on the as she passed, grinning when she scurried back to her room with Basil at her feet.

[nev3rfound]

anyone but you : b.b

you were Bucky's pocket of sunshine, his sweet girl outside of the avengers. a slice of normality in his less-than lifestyle, but what happens when you're pulled into it in the worst way? (2.6k)

we've got ourselves a good'un today angels, and you have @imagine-all-the-fandoms for the brill idea :)

warnings - graphic descriptions of torture and wounds. (but fluffy ending)

masterlist / permanent taglist / etsy shop

“Mmh, okay. So, our options- wait stop laughing at me!” Throwing the menus in his direction, Bucky stifles the rest of his laugh by trying to play it off as a cough.

Shaking his head, Bucky picks up the menus that had been promptly thrown at him. "I'm not laughing at you doll." Bucky reasons, moving across the sofa to now kneel in front of the coffee table where you're perching opposite him looking through your phone for alternatives.

"Sure sounds like it to me." You chide, glancing up with a mischievous glint in your eyes, one Bucky can't help but get lost in, completely missing the words sounding from your lips. Clicking your fingers in front of him, Bucky snaps from the depths of his mind.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks, only elated as your grin widens into a playful smile. "Right, dinner!" Bucky slaps his hand down on his thigh before rising to his feet and dramatically clasps one hand over his eyes. "How 'bout we do the random selector, huh?"

Chuckling to yourself, you nod along before rising to your feet. "Let's do it, Barnes."

Covering your eyes as well, the pair of you reach down and clutch a menu in your grasp and open your eyes. "I got Chinese!" You announce, and Bucky grunts in disappointment as he holds up the leaflet loosely.

"I got the shitty pizza place a few blocks away." He groans, watching you cheer victoriously. "You won this time, Y/n." He rushes over to your side of the table, wrapping his arms around your waist before lifting you up, hearing you squeal before dropping the menu. "But I'll win next time, mark my words."

With your arms around his neck, Bucky dips you lowly with a smirk. "That so, Barnes?" You tease, leaning closer to his face. "We'll see." You add, closing the distance between you both with a sweet quick kiss. "Now come on, I'm starving!"

*

"Thirty minutes til we land, guys." Natasha announces from the front of the jet.

Unable to keep his knee from bouncing once the announcement was made, Bucky cannot stop his thoughts from returning to you. It had been a longer mission than anticipated with little to no contact with the outside world. He's so used to sending a text, a quick call to just hear your voice and know you're okay whether it be doing a mundane task or listening to you moan about a colleague.

That's one of the things Bucky loves about you; the normalcy of it all. You couldn't be more of a polar opposite to the former soldier, with a 9-5, a pension scheme, and health benefits included. Whereas he just gets thrown into the unknown more than he cares to admit and comes out slightly more traumatized with each mission.

Noting the nervous actions of his friend, Steve nudges Bucky's arm. "You got plans with Y/n once we get back?" Steve asks, knowing it'll help pass the remaining time until they land.

Within seconds the tension melts from Bucky's body and even Sam catches the barely there smile on the soldier's face.

"Going to this movie theatre she loves, it's kinda run down but she likes to call it 'old school.'" He quotes, picturing the first time you dragged him along to the theatre. "And well, I've got something planned for her, but I don't know." Bucky trails off, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

"Well, sounds great to me, Buck." Steve comments, moving slightly closer, and lowers his head in an attempt to keep the overs from interrupting. "So, you ever gonna bring her to the compound?"

Bucky sighs deeply and Steve backs up, knowing it's useless to even pry further into it.

"It's just so good, Steve." Bucky starts, glancing around at those around him, some looking through reports and others dozing off. "I don't want her to get enveloped in this side of our life." He explains and Steve simply nods. "I love what we have, and, and I don't wanna risk ruining that."

"Understood." Steve pats Bucky's arm. "She really brings out the best in you, you know?"

"Yeah, he's been notably less grumpy since they got together." Sam comments from the other side of the jet, receiving a brief glare from Bucky. "Less grumpy, Barnes. You're no ray of sunshine yet."

The rest of the flight sped by whilst Bucky remained deep in his thoughts which mostly circled around you. He was jolted from his memories once the jet landed and they all began to disembark.

As the team began to walk through the compound, Bucky quickly got his phone out to send you a message. But before he could even start to type one, a series of urgent texts flash up on his screen.

"Bucky?" Steve calls out to his friend who is almost frozen in place, staring down at his phone with panic written across his expression. "Buck?" Walking toward his friend, he looks down at Bucky's phone and feels his heart drop at what he's reading.

With a shaky hand, Bucky forces his head up to meet Steve's eyes. "Steve, I," He can barely form the right words, unsure what to even say. "This, this can't happen." His mind shifts to denial, but upon hearing his name being called urgently up ahead by Tony and Bruce he can feel his whole world crashing down on him.

*

The first sensation that came back was your smell. In hindsight, you wish it wasn't and that you could've remained senseless, but you weren't so lucky.

It smelt like metal, smoke, and sweat. Little did you know, that was all coming from you.

Your eyesight followed suit and quickly alerted your captures with delight that you were conscious at last. "Help!" You cry out, now noticing your arms shackled to a wall in a dank-looking cell. "Please, help me!" Within seconds the screams tear at your throat, scratching it raw as laughter enters your ears.

Through the shadows, a large figure emerges holding up an old school camcorder whilst he grimaces at you, eyes roaming over the wounds inflicted. "Bout time you woke up darling." The man snarls, moving closer into your enclosed space. "Wanna say hi to your friends?" Forcing the camera to your face, you're quick to turn your head away, only to feel a sweaty hand clench your jaw and force you to look directly into the lens as tears glisten in your eyes. "You know what to do if you want her back." The man comments, further confusing you about the situation before he reveals a small knife in his grasp.

"No, please," You plead, shaking your head at the sight of the knife rising before plowing it down into your thigh.

The last thing Bucky sees is your face contorted in pain, the movement of your lips as you scream in anguish. But all of the sounds have become white noise.

"Do we know who sent this?" Steve is the first to ask, noting Bucky standing too still for his own liking.

Raising his hand, Bruce swipes across and reveals three headshots of so-called reformed criminals. "Jason Donahough, Mark Whitehall, and Edward Polaski." Bruce points to each, pausing at the sound of Bucky's metal arm whirring, the plates sliding as he clenches both fists at the images.

"I know them." Bucky states through gritted teeth.

"A message was delivered with the video, we're trying to locate the source with the help of FRIDAY." Tony explains, revealing the two simple sentences.

Come get your girl, Winter Soldier. It's time to resume the game.

A shudder spreads through Bucky at the second sentence. They still remember what he did, and clearly aren't messing around this time.

"I have to go." Bucky tells himself, too in his own head to notice several pairs of eyes fall on him in alarm.

"Bucky, that's," Steve starts, but Bucky is already walking out the door before he can finish his sentence. "We gotta go, who's in?"

Almost every hand shoots up and Steve nods, everyone starts to file out, knowing what needs to be done.

*

They came in abruptly, knocking the chains on your ankles to alert you of their presence. Mostly they just wanted to taunt you, sometimes they'd spare you the pain of reminding you that you were alone and no one would come for you. But more often than not, they'd add to your growing list of injuries, conflicting another wound to your skin as more blood stains the tiles.

No one answers the questions you ask when conscious enough to form words. 'Where am I?' 'How long have I been here?' and the one that scares you most of all, 'Why me?'

"You think he'll come?" Your ears perk up at the question, and you force your heavy head up an inch to see two of your attackers conversing outside of your cell.

One of them is holding a phone tightly in his grasp, chewing on his lip at the question. "For her? Hopefully." He scoffs before looking back at you, noticing the corners of your lips rising weakly. "What're you smiling at, bitch?" His voice rises before he marches over to you, grabs a hold of your face with one hand, and stares you dead in the eyes. "Somethin' you wanna say?" He demands, eyes widening awaiting a response.

Instead, you spit in his face, watching him recoil in disgust.

"You'll pay for that," He states, reaching into his pocket for something whilst your eyes grow heavy once again, unaware of a red light flickering through the base and alarms blaring.

The two men exchange a look, one you're oblivious to when your head slumps back down to rest against your chest.

"Showtime." One of the men laughs, clapping his hands before they both exit the cell, leaving your weak body alone-something you can be silently thankful for.

"Bucky," His name passes from your lips before your eyes drop once more.

Leading the mission, Bucky refuses to trail from the plan. Sometimes, he'll swerve from the set motions, but when it comes to you, nothing is to be changed or come as a surprise.

Continuing through the dank corridors, Bucky keeps his gun aimed in front of him whilst Steve and Natasha follow behind. So far Bucky has not left a single guard standing, and some without breath.

"You think this is it?" Natasha questions, looking at a series of locked doors, each with a number printed above and the red light flashing.

Bucky remains silent, trying to zone out from the murmurs behind him. His eyes continuously scan over the doors, he homes in on the furthest down the corridor, noting the light flashing white instead of red.

"There." Bucky speaks up, picking up pace toward the door only to be surprised by three guards who start shooting.

Wasting no time, Bucky tears the three down with ease. He ignores their screams whilst he shoots and punches his way through them.

Breathing deeply, Bucky leans forward to see a series of buttons to unlock the door. "Got any idea-" Steve starts, only to be met with Bucky smashing his metal fist into the panel, causing the door to open.

Adjusting their eyes to the dimly lit room, the trio enter apprehensively.

Scanning the room, Bucky's breath catches in his throat at the frail figure in the corner of the room. "Y/n?" His voice croaks, wasting no time to rush to your side, delicately lifting your head up to his lap. Eyeing over your various injuries, Bucky shakes his head and nestles your cheek with his hand. "What've they done to you?"

"Buck, we've got to get her out, now." Steve places his hand on his friend's shoulder, watching his oldest friend help you up and break the chains keeping you cemented in place. "Nat's clearing our exit, we don't have long."

Upon picking you up, Bucky freezes at your loud cry. "I'm sorry, doll, I'm so sorry." He repeatedly mumbles into your neck as he cradles your body in his arms all too aware of you dipping in and out of consciousness.

Much to their surprise, their exit is easier than anticipated. With you lying limp in Bucky's arms breathing heartlessly, Nat starts the jet up.

"It was all just to prove a point." Bucky states quietly, an oxygen mask now covering your nose and mouth. "just to show they could still get back at me, after all this time." His fists begin to clench on the edge of the seat, something Steve quickly picks up on as he moves to sit beside the pair of you.

Looking down at you in daylight, Steve could feel his heart clench in his chest. From what he saw of you briefly in photographs, you were shell of the woman you were physically, let alone mentally when you eventually come to.

"She's safe now, Buck." Steve reminds Bucky, feeling a sense of hope wash over the jet at your eyes open.

"Buck?" You croak, trying to lift your hand up, only for it to be held tightly by Buckys. "You, you found me." Tears start to build in your eyes upon seeing his, only for them to quickly refill with black spots.

"Of course, I'll always find you." Bucky whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead as a tear glides across your skin.

two months later

"Okay, okay!" Bucky chuckles heartfully, clutching the menu in his grasp above his head whilst you pout up at him. "Just say sorry and it's yours, doll."

Crossing your arms over your chest, you lightly sigh. "Come on, that's not fair. Steve will agree with me on this, right, Steve?" Glancing over your shoulder, Steve doesn't move a muscle from the armchair situated in the compound living area. "Steve?" Waving your hand, you reach for a cushion to throw at him, only for it to be deflected at the last second.

"I think you've got a slight advantage here, Buck." Steve chimes in, much to Bucky's playful dismay.

Lowering his arms back down, Bucky kneels in front of you with the menu in hand. "Here you go, doll." He winks, watching you snatch it from his grasp before wheeling backward toward the coffee table.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Barnes." You salute, reaching across for your crutch to ease you out of the wheelchair.

Upon hearing a quiet wince, Bucky's gaze falls upon you, and starts to walk in your direction to assist. "She's got this." Natasha pipes up, now entering the room to see what all the commotion was.

"Thanks, Nat." You smile, now using the crutch you reach for your phone, revealing the scarring on your forearm which sometimes hurts to see.

With a quick tug, you pull on the sleeve of Bucky's henley you've stolen before dialing for the takeaway and leaving the room.

Now left alone with two old friends, Bucky can practically hear their questions protruding. "She's just taking things a day at a time." Bucky explains, burying his head in his hands at the memories of the past few months.

"I mean, I haven't heard her laugh like this since before," He trails off, not wishing to finish the sentence as images of blood, your screams, and pleads replay.

"It's alright," Natasha comments with a soft smile. "She's tougher than she looks, for a civilian that is." She adds.

"Who're you callin' a civilian?" You speak up, feigning shock at Natasha's remark. "I happen to be a very special person." You add, slowly making your way toward Bucky.

Smiling at the interaction, Steve dares to ask. "And what makes you special, huh, Y/n?" He plays along, thankful to see Bucky's smile growing as you reach him, wrapping your free arm around his middle.

"'Cause this guy gets to date me." You state with a smug grin, feeling Bucky kiss your temple with a smile on his lips. "Nothing more special than that, right?" Looking up at Bucky, his smile only widens as the sparkle in your eye flashes for a moment, slowly making its return.

"Yeah, doll." Bucky tells you. "Luckiest guy around."

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)@bissstuff @psychicforest@lourightm@mywinterwolf@justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx@courtneychicken@marvelsangels@supraveng@tommy-lee-81@smilexcaptainx@fandom-princess-forevermore@sarge-barnes-sir@pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated-fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs@eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8@notbrooklynsblog@nikkixostan @cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976@sarcasticallywitty15@multi-fandom-princess07@16boyfriends-and-me@courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor@pleasantlysecretdream@yougottalovefandoms@magicalxdaydream@soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown

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[querenciasturniolo]

Hiiii if your not backed up on requests could you do one where Chris and the reader meet on tour and he asks her for her number or something it’s okay if you don’t want too, I love your work by the way keep doing what your doing xxxx

unreal ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: swearing, nerves, awkwardness

summary: bumping into the three people you’d just seen on stage an hour prior in a local pizzeria was not on your docket for the night, but everything happens for a reason, you suppose

a/n: of course ! also thank you so much, that means a lot ! 🫶🏻 i had a little trouble writing this, so i’m sorry if it seems rushed/not great

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

The show was incredible, and your ears were still ringing from the screams.

It was almost impossible to get out of the packed room, trying your best to avoid bumping into anyone as you maneuvered your way through the crowd, wanting nothing more than to get to your car and get home.

Halfway through the parking lot, you realized how hungry you were, and couldn’t help but notice the glowing pizzeria sign next to the venue you’d just left. You sighed and turned around, making your way to the small building and stepping inside out of the cold air. The heat smacked you in the face, nearly knocking the breath out of you as you walked up to the counter and smiled politely to the man working there.

“Could I just get one slice of cheese, please?” You asked, digging in your bag for your wallet as he put in your order and held out his hand for the money. You placed it in his hand and waited patiently for the change, holding your hand out when he closed the register. The bell on the door dinged as you moved out of the way, putting your change in your bag and leaning back on a table.

“That show was fucking insane! Did you hear how loud they were?”

You froze, immediately recognizing the voice echoing through the pizzeria.

“Shit.” You whispered, pulling your phone out of your pocket and trying to make yourself look busy as you were definitely eyeing them as they ordered. There they were, the three boys you had just seen on stage, clearly still buzzing from the show.

“I’m convinced my hearing is permanently damaged.” Matt said, Nick handing the man behind the counter the money as Matt and Chris walked to stand next to you. Your face was on fire and your heart was racing, trying your best to not look like you were freaking the fuck out. It was obvious they didn’t see you, Chris’ back colliding with your side and nearly knocking you over.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” He said, quickly resting his hands on your shoulders to steady you. His eyes scanned over you subtly, but because of your nerves, you noticed it immediately. It felt impossible, but your face heated up even more as you nodded.

“No, you’re totally fine. I was in your way.” You said, wincing at how stupid you sounded. “Sorry. Good show tonight, by the way.”

Chris raised his eyebrows, a smile growing on his face. “Oh, you were at our show? Thank you, what’s your name?” He asked.

“Y/n.” You said, Chris nodding and leaning against the same table you were on.

“Hey, the guy said our pizza should be done in about fifteen minutes—oh, hi.” Nick said, finally looking up from putting his change into his wallet.

“This is Y/n, she was at our show.” Matt said, your eyes flickering between all three of them. As the seconds passed, your nerves dissipated and it felt almost normal to talk to them, like catching up with old friends.

“Oh, how fun! Did you enjoy it?” Nick asked, his eyes meeting yours just as your order was called.

“One second.” You said, walking to the counter and grabbing your slice of pizza and walking back. “Anyways, I had a lot of fun! The crowd was nuts, though. Did you guys enjoy it?” You furrowed your eyebrows, realizing how ridiculous that question was.

They all chuckled at your question, but Chris is the one that answered. “Oh, yeah, we live for this shit. By far the most fun I’ve had in a while.” He said.

“Tour has been great so far, everyone has been super sweet and super supportive, it’s awesome.” Matt said, Nick humming in agreement.

“Yeah, we haven’t encountered any assholes yet, thank God.” Nick said, a snort leaving your lips as you shook your head.

Their names were called for the pizza, Nick turning to go get it and Matt following.

“It was nice to meet you, by the way.” Chris said, pushing himself off of the table, but he didn’t move to follow his brothers. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too—I mean, all of you.” You said, shaking your head and blushing when Chris grinned down at you and nodded.

“Yeah, for sure.” He said, Nick and Matt walking over with the box of pizza and looking at Chris with raised eyebrows.

“We have to get back to the bus, but it was nice to meet you. I’m glad you saw our show and had fun.” Matt said. “I’d hug you, but that seems weird for some reason.”

You laughed and shrugged your shoulders. “I’ll take a hug, that isn’t weird.” You said, Matt chuckling and walking towards you. You hugged all three of them and said your goodbyes, deciding to just sit in the empty pizzeria and eat your pizza before heading home as they walked out of the building.

It had only been a few moments of you sitting down that the bell above the door dinged again. You looked up, halfway through taking a bite of pizza as Chris rushed towards you and plopped down in the chair in front of you. You nearly choked as you tried to quickly chew and swallow the bite you’d taken, Chris’ amused smile making your cheeks heat up as you finally composed yourself.

“What’s up?” You said, taking a sip of your water as Chris slid his phone from across the table. You looked at the screen, a new contact page opened. Your eyes met his immediately, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Chris raised his eyebrows as his eyes flickered between the screen and you.

“Can I have your number?” He asked, realization dawning on you a few seconds too late.

“Oh, fuck. Um, yeah, of course.” You said, picking his phone up off of the table and typing in your phone number. You locked his phone and handed it back to him, Chris’ smile never leaving his face as he nodded and slipped his phone back in his pocket.

“Awesome, I’ll talk to you later.” He said, standing from the seat and leaving the building, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched him leave.

You couldn’t comprehend what just happened, your mind foggy as you finished eating your slice of pizza, threw away your trash, and finally headed towards your car. The entire drive home your mind was everywhere else, exhaustion and confusion clouding your thoughts until you finally pulled into your driveway.

When you got up to your room, you got ready for bed and didn’t even consider checking your phone until you were curled up under your blanket. You finally opened your phone, a text from an unknown number making your heart race and a swarm of butterflies invade your stomach.

[frost-queen]

To his liking // part 2 (Reader x Steve Raglan /W. Afton)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: Hired, you have your first glance at the old pizzaplex. To your surprise Steve is there for unknown reasons. The job description slowly becoming more clear when you finally meet what's behind the curtains. [series]

The car lights dimmed on the sign board. A happily looking bear waving with a mic in his hands. Eyes still glued on the sign, you opened the door, getting out. Seeing how the building was in it’s worst shape you seemed to pity it. Pity a building, strange. Nothing in the nearest range. Completely cut off from the world it felt. A hidden secret amidst the jungle. Shutting the door you approached the building more.

On your way you reached for the key Mr. Raglan had given you after your job appointment. An old key with a pizza slice keychain. Standing in front of it, you saw how dirty the windows were. With your sleeve you wiped it across the window, trying to clear it. It was helpless. So much dust and dirt collected over the years. Pressing your arm against the glass, you neared to peek inside.

How could you do your job when the place seemed deserted. Clearly no one would hold their birthday parties here anymore. Not at the state of it. – “Beautiful isn’t it?” – you suddenly heard startling you. Gasping loud you turned around, heart skipping a beat at Mr. Raglan. – “Mr. Raglan what…” – you started wondering what he was doing here.

He didn’t acknowledge your answer, looking at the building. – “It’s a shame it lost it’s glory. Oh what a glory it was.” – he spoke. You rose your eyebrow feeling as if he spoke from experience. – “Did… did you come here when you were young?” – you asked him. His eyes batted down to you. – “No.” – he answered in all seriousness. – “Shall we go inside?” – he had clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together.

You simply followed as he gestured for you to open the door. So you did feeling his presence close by. The door opened as you walked into the dark entrance way. Mr. Raglan came standing beside you, staring with some pity at the destroyed interior. Tables and chairs flipped over. Litter everywhere. Crumbs and dust covered the carpet. It didn’t match up to why you were here.

“Mr. Raglan?” – you started wanting to speak him about it. He interrupted you only thinking of his own pleasures. – “Come I’ll show you the stage.” – he took you by the wrist, pulling you along. He manoeuvred with you through litter and fallen tables to get to the stage.

“You’ll be right in your element.” – he said pulling you along. He come to a stop at the stage, taking a moment to look at it. – “Mr. Raglan I don’t understand what…” – you began again once more cut off by him. – “Wait here.” – he said letting go of your wrist. – “But…” – you spoke words useless to his calling. Raglan disappeared in another room leaving you alone. You took a moment to look around. Is this where you needed to be? Did you even want to stay?

Something about this place made you feel uneasy. This was no place to play dress up for some kid’s birthday. You started to question what your purpose was. Was Mr. Raglan pulling a prank on you? The curtains were not evening up leaving you with a few millimetres of room to peek through the curtains. You tried looking through the small gap, wanting to know what was on stage.

It was too dark to see anything. Vaguely you could make out a few shapes. – “Mr. Raglan?” – you called out. Leaning in more, you slowly moved your hand up to the curtain. With trembling fingers you neared the curtain. Reaching for it. Wanting to know what secrets they held.

Your finger touched the fabric ready to pull the curtain back when the lights flashed on with a loud thud. It made you scream pulling your hand back when the curtains got pulled back. Revealing three standing animals. A bunny, a chicken and a bear.

You jumped back shockingly when lights started to flash on stage. The animals suddenly moving in sequences. Music blasting out of some boxes. The bunny playing the guitar as the bear moved his mic up and down. His mouth opening and closing, head turning in shocks. – “The fun is starting. A celebration that lasts eternally.” – the bear sang. The bear’s head turned to you, body moving forwards as he stared right at you. – “We are always watching.” – he sang sending a rush up your spine.

Something about his words sounding chillingly. The chicken was moving around holding a cupcake in her hand. The bear continued to sing till his voice started to deepen and slow down. Your eyes widened seeing their movement die out till they came to a stop. No more singing. You jumped when Raglan appeared from the side on the stage.

“They aren’t what they used to be.” – he said half chuckling. He came walking amongst them to the front of the stage. – “Did you enjoy the show?” – he asked. When you didn’t answer he dropped his smile. Raglan hopped off the stage to join you once more. He threw an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close to him. – “Meet Bonnie, Freddy and Chica.” – Raglan introduced. You moved your hand up not sure why you were saying hello to some puppets. – “What are…” – you started interrupted by Raglan. – “Animatronics.” – he explained.

You hummed astonished. – “So you expect me to give a little show too?” – you asked him. Raglan looked mischievously down at you. – “Let me see what you got doll.” – he spoke back with half a smile. You walked off as his arm fell from your shoulder. He watched as you went to search for something. Now that the place was lighted up, you had a better look at it. You grabbed a chair that seemed the best.

Setting it in front of the stage. You then grabbed Raglan by the arms, sitting him down on the chair. He smiled beyond himself when you went up to the stage. – “Chica, Freddy, Bonnie mind if I share the stage with you?” – you asked not sure why you were even talking to animatronics. The animatronics standing still in their worn out position. Freddy bend over.

Chica turned away from the crowd and Bonnie with one arm up. You pointed at the side hinting to Raglan if that was where you could find the music. Raglan pulled his shoulders up, not helping out. You went off stage. Raglan seating himself better with anticipation. It felt like he was about to witness his wildest dream.

The music started as the animatronics started to move again. Raglan smiled when you appeared on stage again. Positioning yourself beside Freddy. Freddy was singing as you danced by his side. Gesturing out movements with your hands and moving a bit with your hips.

Raglan inhaled deep leaning forwards. Elbow resting on his knees as his hands were pressed together under his nose from excitement. You caught up with Freddy’s words joining him. – “Come get to know me, and you won't want to leave after tonight. Down here, we're lonely, and we would love you to join us for a bite” – you sang along with Freddy.

Raglan staring hungrily and beyond happiness at you. The music died out again as you felt a bit silly now. Feeling all shy and flustered. Raglan got up clapping loudly. – “Bravo Y/n!” – he cheered, throwing you a kiss hand. You went to the front of the stage as Raglan met up with you. He helped you down the stage. Arms around your waist as he had picked you up and set you back down.

“You are a natural Y/n.” – he said. You smiled breathlessly back at him. – “So Mr. Raglan.” – you started as he had turned away from you. He hummed loud to acknowledge your attention. – “I wanted to ask you about the job description again. It seems a bit unclear to me.” – you explained wondering what your purpose was here.

He turned back to you moving his hands down on your shoulders. – “You will entertain them.” – he spoke making you frown. – “Entertain who?” – you questioned not sure. Which kids would come here at night to host a party?

Raglan turned you around towards the animatronics. – “You’ll entertain them, bunny.” – he whispered at you, pressing his fingers deeper into your skin. – “The… animatronics?” – you wondered half in shock. Raglan lowered his head to your shoulder. – “They’ll love you, just as much as I do.” – he said. You turned round back to him. – “You want me to entertain them?” – you asked again.

Raglan sighed annoyed. – “Yes dear bunny that is the task.” – he tapped playfully on your nose. Your eyes slightly widened with all the warnings going off in your head. There were so many wrongs about this. – “It’s not hard to follow instructions Y/n.” – Steve spoke cupping your cheeks. – “The stage is yours Y/n.” – he looked down at you with a smile.

“Enjoy your first night of many.” – he finished brushing his thumb against your cheek. He let go of you, walking away from you. You stood frozen. Unable to move from both the shock and his lovely touch. Raglan went back through the door disappearing into the night. He wasn’t gone for a minute as the lights fell out.

Leaving you back in complete darkness. Startled you heard some sudden noises from behind you. An uneasy feeling something was nearing. You slowly turned your head to the side. Eyes widening when you looked over your shoulder. Eye to eye you stood with shiny eyes. Those of an animatronic.

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

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[withacapitalp]

Because the girlies really loved my last post about Argyle (and I can't remember if I put this here or not) have some more unconditional jargyle love

“I got a job today,” 

All conversation halted as over a dozens pairs of eyes turned to stare at him. Argyle gave them all a half smile and shoving some more vegetables in his mouth. 

“A job?” Jonathan managed to sputter out, looking at Argyle like he was from another planet. He did that a lot, always had, so it didn't really bug him.

Argyle was fine with being weird.  

“Hawkins Pizza! Gino wants me to start on Thursday, earlier if I can. They reallllllly need the help,” Argyle said with a disappointed shake of his head, taking another bite of broccoli and telling them the whole story. 

He had gone in on an impulse while he was waiting to pick up Robin and Steve from work. He had just wanted a slice, maybe to pick some up for dinner tonight so Joyce didn’t have to cook, but he had walked into a waking nightmare. Half baked mushy dough, tomato sauce that tasted like it came right out of a jar, and a cheese blend that had zero stringiness. 

They didn’t even have pineapple. It was a complete travesty.

The owner hadn’t appreciated his observations at first, even threatened to kick him out, but he had managed to swing the man around by offering to make him a real pizza. 

Twenty five minutes later Argyle had a job offer and a super nice new boss. Turns out the dude was way chill, just overwhelmed by being one of three restaurants left standing after the earthquake. But good pizza made everyone feel better. It was one of the reasons Argyle had loved being at Surfer Boy so much. 

“Y’all won’t be able to handle the sick ass pies I’m about to be slinging,” He said with a lazy shaka and a chuckle. 

Everyone was still looking at him, but not with as much confusion. They all congratulated him,  lowly going back to the conversations they had been having before. 

Well everyone except Jonathan, but that guy was always zonked out. 

“You’re staying?” Jonathan finally asked. 

“As long as its still cool for me to crash on your couch, my guy,” Argyle answered. Shoot. He probably should have asked that first before taking the job, but he had just been excited to get to start making pizzas again. Being in Hawkins wasn’t anything like Cali, and he had jumped at the chance for something just a little bit familiar. 

“Of course it is. Stay as long as you want,” Jonathan answered automatically, not missing a beat, “I just- I-“

Jonathan cut himself off with an irritated sigh, turning to stare down at his plate. Argyle let him have the moment, bopping his head along to the music playing in his head and happily spacing out. 

Jonny needed things like this, moments where he could debate whatever was going on inside. His best friend was ‘cerebral’ as his abuela would put it- he needed time in his head to find the right thing to say. 

Or he needed time to find the courage to say he wanted to say without fear. Either way, Argyle didn’t mind waiting. 

“I guess I just didn’t expect you to want to stay,” Jonathan mumbled out, still keeping his eyes on his plate and not his best friend, “I mean given how insane everything is,” 

It was insane. It was all insane.

Two weeks ago they had been hitting golfballs into old cars and talking about how Jonathan needed to get his shit together, and now they were sitting in the living room of an abandoned cabin halfway across the country, surrounded by people who had only taken ten days to feel like family to him. 

It was insane that Jonathan’s little sister could move stuff with her mind, and there was apparently an alternate dimension full of hell beasts that were determined to break into their world and destroy everything. It was insane that he had known nothing about the guy he swore was his best friend, and it was insane that Argyle still managed to find a way to love him through all of it. 

But sometimes insane was a good thing.

“Where else would I wanna be?” Argyle said instead with an easy grin, slinging an arm around Jonathan’s shoulder and leaning into his best friend’s space. 

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts

Today's prompt is: calm.

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 7)

Summary: Rosie is brought to school in a police car, and it has nothing to do with her parents. What's more troubling is her attitude about the events afterwards...

Seven Years Old

Being brought to school in a police car by a uniformed police officer got me some unwanted attention, but there was nothing for it. (I say unwanted…)

Everybody thought it had everything to do with Papa’s detective work. A mistake easily made, but no, it had absolutely nothing to do with either parent, uncle or the DI at New Scotland Yard.

Dad and Papa were away for a few days, and Molly and I made a girl’s weekend out of it. We went to Madame Tussaud’s, Daunt Books, and St, James’s Park. Molly painted my nails, we applied hideous looking face masks and covered our eyes with slices of cucumber, watched the Narnia films, ate popcorn, ice cream, chocolate, pizza and Molly’s homemade scones.

When Monday arrived, I was eager to get to school and tell my friends all about the wonderful time I’d had. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth after breakfast when I heard Molly cry out and then a man’s voice spoke. Not a voice I was familiar with, and his speech was slurred. A commotion ensued.

“Stay calm. Focus. Deep breaths. You can do this, Watson.”

It was Papa’s voice, urging me into action with a calm tone, and I knew what to do. He and Dad had trained me for this if an emergency should occur.

Molly had a landline in her bedroom, so I called 999. The woman answering was very understanding when I told her, in as few words possible, that a man had forced his way into my godmother’s house, could she please send a car over asap.

We were in luck, because a car with two officers was patrolling the area. The doorbell rang a minute later. 

“The door is open. Come…”

Molly’s voice went suddenly muffled. The man was probably holding a hand over her mouth.

Bite him, Molly, I thought, but then the police entered, and chaos followed next.

***

It turned out that the man breaking an entering, was drunk, hence the slurred speech. He lived one street down, and evidently thought he was locking himself into his own house. Molly had left the door unlocked after she’d brought out the bins. We were after all about to depart minutes later. So, when this man saw Molly in “his” house, he thought she was a burglar.

Molly was a bit shaken, but the man had been too drunk to have the strength to harm her. Another car was called, and Miriam, one of the police officers, offered to drive me to school, lest I’d be late. (Actually, it was me who asked her.) The reason she acquiesced had probably everything to do with my heroic effort, and resourcefulness in saving the day.

I told Miriam all about Papa and that I knew Greg Lestrade. Miriam didn’t know them, but she’d obviously heard of the great Sherlock Holmes. I think she was a bit amazed that I was his daughter.

So, this is why I was delivered at school in a police car, just in time for my first class of the day. Our teacher was supposed to read us a story, but everyone, her included, was bursting with curiosity about this morning’s events. Now that I knew a bit more about the West End, as I was a part of the school’s theatre group, I gestured and dramatized as best I could, which seemed to have the desired effect.

***

That evening, Dad told me about what had happened after Miriam had driven me to school. Two minutes later, uncle Myc arrived, had a stern talk with Molly about locking her doors when his precious niece was in her care, and when Molly returned from work, a top-notch alarm system had been installed.

Also available on AO3

[pollenallergie]

I miss billy so let’s remember his presence

He gets his haircut for the first time and he apologizes for the mess of hair on the ground and offers to sweep it up

He knows what it’s like to be on the streets so he’ll spare any pocket change he has

He hopes one day he’ll be well enough to talk to troubles teens and young adults about mental health and stability

Always saves the last slice of mushroom pizza for you

You taught him patience and he taught you kindness -♌️

awwww the image of like a five- or six-year-old billy getting his hair cut for the first time since his mum passed (and like it’s been a couple years since she passed… so his hair is very long and he has absolutely no memory of what getting his hair cut is like because, the last time he got it cut, he was just for the memory to properly form and remain in his lovely mind) and like just being sooo apologetic about the fact that his lovely blonde (he was a blonde at that age, but his hair got darker as he got older) hair was all over the floor. he offers to sweep it up and the barber just melts because what six year old does that??? what kid just offers to sweep the floor because they feel so guilty about the mess that they didn���t even make (it’s not like he cut his own hair!)?? from then on, billy got free haircuts from that barber. even now, as a fully grown adult, that barber still offers to give billy a free haircut whenever he visits Woolstone (the village he grew up in).

and yesssss he’s so charitable and generous!!! he’d give someone in need the shirt off his back at a moments notice, all they’d need to do is ask. he visits the friends he made while he was homeless (all of various ages, some as old as 80, some as young as 19) at the local shelters, halfway houses, and even at their own places, for the lucky ones who’ve miraculously managed to get out of homelessness like he did. he checks in on them often, asking if they have enough food, if they need a place to sleep, making sure they’re in good health, etc. he knows just how to check in on them without raising up any of their walls (instead of asking if they have food at home, he simply asks if they’d like to come over for dinner that night whenever he sees them, claiming that he’ll have heaps of extra food because he doesn’t know how to cook for only two people - granted, that’s not a total lie - and, when they except, he’s sure to send them home with more than just the leftover dinner from that night… he sends them home with any food in the pantry that you two were willing to part with - you keep an abundance of canned food stocked in there for that very reason -, with extra toiletries that he just so happened to have lying around your flat - again, you two keep that kind of thing in abundance for this very reason -, anything and everything they could possibly need).

and awww he would be so good at working with like troubled youth!! he’d be so patient and compassionate and accepting and supportive and kind. and he’d talk to them like they’re his equals (because in his eyes, they are… he’s been in their shoes before… he knows what it’s like… he doesn’t at all see himself as better off or more superior than them, just as someone who has learned to better care for themself through over two decades of agonizing trial and error). all the kids at the local rec/community centre would adore billy.

maybe the two of you would even foster some of the kids from his work? the ones that seem to have the hardest time finding a safe place to land. the ones that need the most help. the ones no one else will reach out to. the ones everyone thinks are doomed to spend their adulthoods either behind bars or on the streets. billy gives those kids a second chance, a third chance, as many chances as it takes because he knows that they just need to know that someone, at least one person, isn’t going to give up on them.

and of course he saves the last slice of pizza for you!! like you said, he’s generous! if he’s making himself something to eat, he makes some for you too by default just in case you might want any. if he’s snuggled up under a blanket on the sofa and you plop down next to him, he’s quick to wrap the blanket around you too. billy loves to share things with you, so anything that’s his is yours too (much like anything that’s yours is his too… because well… to love is to share and you love billy a whole damn lot).

billy’s the sweetest man <3

thank you for sharing these headcanons!! i love the way you see billy/write for him!

[amiharana]

tumblr keeps crashing when I write this so I'm just gonna type super fast but have we considered link's and revali's favorite foods for modern and canon bc I feel like they would be different

great question! they would be different because if you had the average hyrulean citizen consume anything from mcdonalds they would be inflicted with every disease possible ❤️

KDJFHDKJF JK but i think there would still be similarities between revali and link's taste in foods in both modern and canon. in canon, i hc revali's favorite dish to be a salmon meuniere while link will just eat anything he can get his grubby little hands on vs. in modern au, i hc that revali would be Huge on sushi & other fish-centered dishes while link is the raccoon digging in your trash in the middle of the night that you find on your security camera footage when you wake up.

according to the one rito woman in gerudo town, the rito canonically appear to also indulge in poultry to which i know the fandom has debated the topic of cannibalism, but i think it would be fucking hilarious if modern au!revali was super into fried chicken. he for sure fucks w that korean chicken & beer shit 💯 maybe wine instead though, he feels like a wine guy.

in comparison, link is definitely not a picky eater and has the weirdest eating habits in the world. like bro will eat 30 apples in succession for a quick heal and not eat for multiple days in canon. in a modern au, he'll eat three slices of cold 2-day old pizza while rushing out the door because he's late for work or he just won't eat it until later in the day when he's back home. i'm self-projecting but he's just like me fr 🤞😊

to be fr though, i feel like in canon link makes so many different meals as he travels hyrule that he loves all different kinds of food for all different reasons. a simple mushroom skewer was one of the first meals he made and had when he woke up on the great plateau. the recipe for the meat-stuffed pumpkin he learned to make in kakariko village has never left his mind because it was incredibly helpful for fighting against enemies. you will never understand how happy he was to perfect the creamy heart soup he learned in gerudo town so he could share it with revali. and link makes sure to grab every spicy pepper he finds as he travels back home to rito village and wonders if revali has tried a pepper steak yet. each meal he's ever made has special memories and meanings attached to them, so there's no way that link could have just one favorite food. 🥹🫶

[themculibrary]

Clint/Laura/Natasha Masterlist

all of himself that is good (ao3) - shellybelle T, 33k

Summary: "You're all grown up," Tony tells him. "You've got a wife, and kids. Why didn't you think about them before you chose the wrong side?"

Clint is a father first. But not all family is flesh and blood.

all this comes back to me, then goes again (ao3) - andibeth82 T, 38k

Summary: Here’s the thing about Laura Barton: Everyone assumes she met Clint first. After all, he had a farm, and he had kids, and he had a life that seemed like it came well before Natasha Romanoff and the Avengers.

Here’s the thing about Laura Barton: The real truth is that she fell in love with Natasha Romanoff first.

and as to me, i know nothing else but miracles (ao3) - andibeth82 T, 10k

Summary: Soulmark aside, she’d long accepted the fact she’d become attracted to Clint in a way that transcended him just being a comfort and a best friend, though other than casual cuddling and playful banter, they’d never done anything to push those boundaries. But while Natasha may have spent a lifetime breaking up relationships in every way, she knows that this is different, and that she loves Clint and Laura too much to try to get in the middle of that relationship.

Asphodel (ao3) - Sanctuaria T, 38k

Summary: Post-Endgame.

After sacrificing herself on Vormir, Natasha wakes up in a strange world of perpetual orange twilight.

Of course, she's not the only one stuck there.

for the half of ourselves we have lost (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 179k

Summary: Natasha says, "No matter what happens, this family will always be the one thing we have. We’ve all put each other through too much shit to let anything come between us.”

Clint says, “You know what it means to owe a debt, Nat.”

[a family picking up the pieces, before and after the war]

From Feral Beginnings to Found Family (ao3) - breatheforeverypart M, 75k

Summary: Welcome to the Barton Farm! The house is under construction. Clint is often away on S.H.I.E.L.D. missions. Laura's working part time, while caring for their one year old daughter, Lila. Add a half-feral ex-Red Room agent and an emergency foster placement to the mix and any ties to a normal family are severed.

What is their new normal? Could it be that the ensuing chaos will forge a found family that can withstand anything life throws their way?

Home’s not home without Auntie Nat (ao3) - PanicMoon15 G, 5k

Summary: Wanda's mind control had a bad effect on Natasha, but Clint's there to help. He brings her home to Laura and the kids with the rest of the Avengers, only to realise it may be his daughter who can be the one to make Auntie Nat feel better.

Auntie Nat needs cuddles. The Barton family is there to provide them.

i love only that which they defend (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 46k

Summary: She finds that she laughs more with Natasha, almost as much as she does with Clint, but for different reasons. Clint had his huge heart and his stupid jokes and easygoing demeanor that Laura had always been attracted to, his perpetually messed up hair and klutzy manner that caused him to drop a slice of pizza on the floor or spill coffee on the couch -- all of the things that had made her fall in love with him in the first place.

Natasha, for all that she was stoic and rigid and carved out of knives and battle scars, was warm in a way that Laura couldn’t quite describe, as if she was a perfect fit for the missing piece Laura had always been looking for in both a friend and a partner.

My Soulmate's Soulmate (ao3) - solrosan G, 3k

Summary: Clint married a woman with two names on her wrist – his, and one written with Russian letters.

nor need we power or splendor (ao3) - shellybelle M, 242k

Summary: She hadn’t been sure, at the time, what had finally driven her away from the training center, brought her to book a flight to Waterloo and rent a car for the drive out out to the farm. But when she had packed a bag and headed to the nearest airport, it hadn’t been her apartment in New York or her condo in DC or her London townhouse or any number of hidden bolt-holes she kept around the world that she’d flown to, but a creaking, busy farmhouse in Iowa. (Or: It's been a long journey to get to where they are, and it'll be an even longer journey home.)

Out of Darkness there is Light (ao3) - Rouko E, 66k

Summary: Loki, battered adopted son of Odin is captured by the Avengers and resigns himself to whatever punishment awaits him on return to the realm he once thought was his home. Enter an insomniac billionaire that sees something no one else does. Can his sharp wit and lethal tongue save the God of Mischief from a fate he doesn't deserve?

If he can save him, what then? Is he still an enemy or could he be turned to the side of good? Can a snarky God known for his silvertongue and lies really be trusted to become an ally to Earth? Tony Stark is going to find out.

ThIs fic takes place immediately after the Avengers Assemble movie and Iron Man 1 & 2. COMPLETE!

She's My Cherry Pie (ao3) - sheis-theslayer (Perididdle) E, 3k

Summary: If Laura Barton has said it once, she has said it a thousand times: no one touches the food while she's cooking. Especially if it's her pies.

But Natasha Romanoff never listens.

the growing season (ao3) - sweetwatersong G, 6k

Summary: Three summers Natasha spends at the farmhouse and two she spends at home.

the landslide will bring it down (ao3) - smallblueandloud T, 10k

Summary: Lila is crying, taking big gulps of air in between her words. She’s scared. In the background, there’s a baby crying, but Natasha barely registers it.

“Mama and Daddy just- they just- Mama Tasha, I can’t find them.” In her mind’s eye, Natasha can see her: a scared eleven year old girl, with her hair in braids, clutching the landline. “Cooper disappeared in front of me. It’s just me and Nathaniel, and I don’t know what to do. Mama-”

(or, natasha's spouses and eldest child dissolve into ash - and she is left to pick up the pieces)

til the clocks run down (ao3) - andibeth82 M, 257k

Summary: "I think I do love her."

The words don’t shock her -- not really, not when she lets herself think about it. She does believe that Clint hadn't been sure about how deep his feelings for Natasha went the first time he admitted his attraction to her. But Laura would have been a fool to believe there wasn’t something more developing, especially after being around them in the few times they’d visited together since Clint’s confession. It had been easy to tell how their partnership was becoming comfortable, a relationship as worn and cozy as the one Laura’s built for herself with the man she’s loved for almost eight years.

[the beginning, the middle, and the journey home]

[m34gs]

You know, we talk a lot about the Housewardens, but I want to know what are the vice housewardens' favourite ice cream flavour? 👀

Ooooh this is gonna be lots of fun to answer! Thank you for asking, I agree we should discuss the vice housewardens more too!!!

Trey - Honestly, I think Trey would like vanilla the best. It pairs so well with almost any baked dessert, and it isn't an overwhelming flavour. I think he would enjoy the sweet simplicity of it. I also think he would love having it with fresh-baked pies.

Ruggie - Ruggie comes from a family that probably didn't spend a lot on ice cream, and it's hinted at that there's young ones he helps look after (siblings? cousins? neighbourhood kiddos? I don't really know but any of those is just as likely) so I imagine that when ice cream was bought, it was bought in a large quantity that was probably on sale, in a flavour that was probably "safe" as in, popular among the majority. For this reason, I think Ruggie would be in love with stuff that is more unique than plain old vanilla or strawberry or chocolate because 1. he didn't get those as a kid, and 2. it means he gets to have it to himself and enjoy it all. I think his number one favourite flavour would be pumpkin ice cream, because it's a different flavour...not too outlandish but definitely not one that is common among ice cream parlours.

Jade - Jade...Oh, Jade. Why must you torment me even in my own headcannons. Alright, so Jade has a favourite ice cream (technically a gelato). It's called "Byakuya". BUT, he's only allowed it on Very Special Occasions. Why? Because it is $6696.00 per serving. PER. SERVING. JADE. Why is it so gosh-darn expensive? Because it is made with Very Expensive white truffles. And look me in the eye and tell me that Jade wouldn't try an ice cream that comes packaged with truffle oil? (I'm sorry I just...I don't know what truffles taste like but research says they're savory, and my personal taste does not like to mix a lot of sweet and savory). And a hand-made metal spoon???? Part of me wonders if he lists this one as his favourite just so he can watch Azul break the bank on the twins' birthday. But honestly, I read about this ice cream here, and couldn't help but think about how it was Such a Jade Thing.

Jamil - I think Jamil would like Vanilla ice cream with some Cinnamon sprinkled on top. It's simple, but a yummy combo, and I think at the end of the day he wants an easy dessert he can enjoy. Plus, he pretty much never runs out of it; those are two ingredients you can find anywhere.

Rook - Rook likes a soft serve vanilla and chocolate ice cream in a cone. It's swirled beautifully and the two different colours really bring out that shape. He enjoys both chocolate and vanilla for taste, so in his mind this is the perfect mix of both. Also, it means he gets romantic ice cream cone dates with Vil. :D (in my opinion, ice cream is completely fine in either a bowl or a cone, but it is 100% More Romantic in a cone).

Ortho - Bubblegum for Ortho. It's a fun colour (usually blue or pink) and it has chunks of candy in it! What's not to love? I think Ortho is a "try everything" kind of person, but I think he would just really love the appeal of the bubblegum flavour ice cream. I also feel like it reflects his fun attitude and child-like wonder very well.

Lilia - Again. Why must I be tormented. But you cannot expect me to think Lilia would go for something normal...No no, he likes to experiment. He is out there trying anything and everything that he can, for the experience. Just a dude living his life to the fullest, and I love that for him. I think Lilia would list Pizza Flavoured Ice Cream as his favourite. Based on the pizza ice cream listed here, made with tomato, basil, oregano, salt and garlic, it would be very savory. Maybe a bit like a cold slice of leftover pizza? I'm not sure...but regardless, he is thriving off of it.

There you go! Those are my headcanons! What are yours, friend??👀 Also, no judgement towards anyone who likes the savory ice creams, it is just my personal preference that I do not.

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #35:

Van Morrison's Veedon Fleece

To date I've put off writing about two of my favorite 60s/70s artists, Van Morrison and Joni Mitchell. This requires some explanation, as leaving either of them out of the Dollar Bin is like leaving rice and beans off your shopping list; life is better when you have these staples available at all times, yes?

In the case of Joni, I'm continuing to procrastinate because what the hell could I really say that's either of interest, insight or humor about her classic records? Um, they're classic; you should get your act together if you don't have them all memorized.

And when it comes to everything after Hejira, where do you even start? Um, well, they're less good. But you should still listen to them. What the hell else are you going to listen to right now? Your kids, you say? Your spouse? Tell them to simmer down and stand aside because it's time to crank Dancin' Clown loud in the living room.

Yep, that's Billy Idol doing his obnoxious thing in the track; apparently Tom Petty's involved too but he's smart enough to stay in the background. Yikes, this is not Joni's great hit.

Even so, I always plead with the student DJ's at my high school school's (that's where I work whenever I climb out of the Dollar Bin) dance's to slip this pop chestnut, along with the B-52's Love Shack, into the Winter Formal mix. I long for the terribly awkward, you see. (To be clear: I'm not a big Dancin' Fool fan. But Love Shack? That's my jam.) Happily, the students never listen to me. If they did I'd feel obligated to get down on my own like a Dancin' Clown.

Anyway, we'll all drink a case of Joni together at some point soon; maybe Mitchell Mondays will be a thing when Shakey Sundays start to wind down (which, at Neil's pace of releasing records should be around 2045). Thanks for your patience Joni!

I've been putting off Van for some of the same reasons I guess. He's not on Joni's level for me, but I recognize that every one of his records are either stone cold classics or have greatness within them up until the mid 70's. But then he hit a brick wall and, frankly, I've never taken the time to survey a lot of the wreckage. If you ask me How Long Has This Been Going On? (the self congratulatory name of Van's mid-90's record) I'll tell you, "beats the hell outta me; I don't listen to Morrison after Feel the Music."

After all, who wants to hear synthesizers mingling with old white man jazz moves, all of it fronted by back up singing ladies and Van's grumpy indifference? And don't even get me started on his recent anti-vax crusade; were I to meet Van today I'd mask up and tell him to get a goddamn life.

Yes, it's true: my buddy Greg, who's reading this right now and freaking out, tells me that No Guru, No Teacher, No Method, No Pizza, or whatever it's called, is a good record, and I'm sure he's right. But I have never found the energy to really listen to it.

Don't get me wrong: I hear Van about gurus; I don't have one either, and Dylan's song about working on one is terrible. But I am a teacher, so I don't appreciate Van trying to get me fired. And I tend to employ methods of all kinds, except while I'm pumping out this nonsense. Finally, I enjoy pizza. And Van apparently doesn't want me to have any. Damn it, Van: give me slice!

But I'm hear to tell you that Veedon Fleece is a Dollar Bin classic: it's soulful, weird, relaxing and elegant; plus, it's just about the last will and testament of Van the Man before he became No Plan Van.

I resisted this album for a long time, not giving it a chance until my late 20's. Why? Well, for one thing, I'm not that into domesticated animals - my cat Batty should be named Compromise, Surrender or Capitulate. Because that's what I did when we got her.

Just look at this beast, busy trying to block out the last 45 years of Morrison's career:

Van appears with giant dogs on the cover of Veedon Fleece, and that fact alone made me pass on this record in the Dollar Bin until around 2003.

The dogs on its cover look far too much like the drooling, child-eating ones my famous brother and I cowered before at ages 6 and 3 respectively at some babysitting co-op lady's house. There we stood, 4'1 and 3'nothing, doggie biscuits in hand, supplied by that well intentioned mother who'd sent us outside to greet them. In the face of all that sniffing, shuffling and terrifyingly hairy life-force my famous brother and I did the only reasonable thing at the time: we ate the doggie biscuits ourselves and then got the hell back in the house.

Frankly, I can't think of a single album cover which features domesticated animals and contains good music. Pink Floyd's Animals doesn't count: that pig ain't real. There are no dogs on the cover of Hounds of Love and the cat on Tapestry is benign. Joni's own Dog Eat Dog is majorly mediocre, Elvis / Old King is a grainy footnote to the cover of Everybody Knows this is Nowhere, and I'll be damned if I ever listen to the Alice in Chains' album with a dog on it or this other Van Morrison record which, for all I know, features the same terrifying dogs as Veedon Fleece, only this time they've been shorn and one is muzzled so as to leave the other free to gorge independently upon my flesh:

But somewhere in the early to mid-aught's my buddies Ryan and Ned cranked up the first song on Veedon Fleece's B Side as we rolled out of town, heading for a men's weekend in the desert. During that trip I melted my shoes in our dead yucca tree bonfire while wearing them (it's amazing what can happen under the influence) and fell in love with Veedon Fleece.

Here is that first track on the record's flip side, and it's the closest thing on the record to a pop single:

The song features just about all the wonderful bits Van had to offer back in the day: he grunts, warbles and shouts whenever he isn't soaring along, plus we've got driving acoustic guitar, chasing bass and drums, pick-me-up piano and complimentary six string riffs.

But the country folk rock of Bulbs, and the stately, epic white blues track that follows, Cul De Sac (which features what may be the greatest scream by a white male in popular music) are outliers on an album which is otherwise concerned with some of the most obscure and introspective music Morrison ever recorded.

Before we get into that truer tale of the record, here's Cul De Sac with its aforementioned scream ready for your pleasure at the 4:56 mark.

I once had a school-wide tug of war rope snap like gunfire in my hands, instantly shredding four of my fingers, one of which still feels funky ten years later. My scream was just as loud. But it was not musical.

Morrison recorded these two tracks separately from the rest of the record, and it shows. What's more, in true Morrison style, he basically wrote off the whole album afterwards: he's almost never performed any of the songs live and he spent the following few years singing only to his gargantuan hounds.

The other record Morrison has treated with similar disdain is Veedon Fleece's spiritual companion, Astral Weeks. Both records must be too thoughtful, complex and warmly spiritual for his liking. It's like he twice got caught gardening turnips in the nude by his neighbors and decided each time to skip town and bail on the mortgage as a result.

Take a listen to Veedon Fleece's opening track, Fair Play: all his ginormus dogs and lady friends are elsewhere; this is just Van, surrounded by sympathetic peers, searching for deliverance among magpie topics that veer from The Lone Ranger to Transcendentalism and back again.

Everything else on the record matches this yearning, graceful tone. Often you lose track of just how obscure and particular the lyrics are; indeed I often forget that Morrison is actually singing in a language I know.

The record's second and third songs depict a sensitive, San Fran everyman psychopath who wields a hatchet at human heads and never misses church on Sunday; the last two songs on Side A are is basically Van's own - albeit highly vague and vastly abbreviated - Intro to Major British Authors II course, and they are way better than the course I took by that title as an undergraduate. Every song flows together; every stands on its own; everything is supremely weird and lovely: what could be better?

But it's the record's two final, so-sparse-they-are-barely-there songs that mean the most to me. Come Here My Love is probably the last thing any of Van seventeen ex-wives ever want to hear him say again, but when he sings it you can dig why they all married him in the first place. It's pretty damn sexy, and if I were into 78 year old covid deniers who should never missed an open casting call to play The Penguin in the next Batman movie I'd swipe vigorously left or right or whatever direction indicates heavy interest on Van's Christian Mingle dating profile.

The album then closes with something even spacier, even sparser, even more astoundingly beautiful. Listen for the ghostly choir emerge way in the backspace, explore the majestic Country Fair:

There's nothing in his catalog that beats Morrison guiding the dense and stretched melody on this track. While the recorder forrays about on its own, Van leads every other musician, and all of us, on a brooding, Pied Piper ramble through endless green ways and shimmering, summer fields.

Country Fair, and Veedon Fleece as a whole, leave me incredibly sad and wonder struck at once. It's a Dollar Bin journey I'm always so eager to take. I'd even feel safe enough to reach out and pet Van's dogs if I came upon them mid-record. And if I had a dog biscuit in hand at the time I'd split it in three equal parts. Then we'd all enjoy it together.

[sparklytravelmoviepersona]

Strange love part 7

You thought about what leo had said on the note he left for you that day. So you go over to the lair for the mystery surprise. And you find it all lighting up like fireflies. And there he was.

“Leo?”

“Hey y/n. I knew you would come. I have something for you.”

He holds out a gift

“You- you made this… for me?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. I love it.”

And then you two just started blushing for apparently no reason

“So… you uh… wanna maybe go stretch our legs?”

“Sure. By the way, if they’re are any bad guys out there I’ll be there to protect you.”

“(chuckled)”

He climbs up a ladder and takes your hand as you go.

“You sure about it at night?”

“Si. Just think of this as an adventure!”

“Alright.”

And then you found a bridge that, for some reason was just sitting there, just holding on the buildings of New York. And then he leaped as high as the sky

“Well, come on. It’ll be fun. Trust me.”

And you walk across but almost fell, and luckily he came just in time and caught you back up.

“You’re waking meadows in my mind. Making waves across my tide. Oh no. OH no. I got a strange magic.”

“Oh, what a strange magic. Oh, it’s a strange magic. I got a strange magic.”

“You’re sailing softly through the sand of a land I’ve always known. You fly so high.”

“I got a strange magic. Oh, what a strange magic. Oh, it’s a strange magic. I got a strange magic.”

“Oh I’m never gonna be the same again. Now I see how it’s got to end. Sweet dreams, sweet dreams.”

“I got a strange magic. Oh, what a strange magic. Oh, it’s a strange magic. I got a strange magic. I got a strange magic. It’s magic.”

“I got a strange magic. Oh, what a strange magic. Oh, it’s a strange magic. I got a strange magic. I got a strange magic.”

“It’s magic.”

Strange love part 8

“That was really fun!”

“See, I knew you’d be surprised.”

“No kidding.”

“So, should we head back?”

“Yes please.”

Soon after the amazing time you had that night, you two were getting closer with each and every passing day that went by.

Leo headed back to the lair for a little later and his brothers were there.

“Let me guess. Hanging out with your girlfriend?”

“(blushing) hey! I just wanted to have a good time with them.”

It sorta looked like he got upset about it and just stormed off into his room. After a very short while, raph went to check on him.

“Hey Leo?”

“Hey”

“What’s going on with you?”

“(sigh) you know how y/n told you guys about how they were feeling things they never used to feel?”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s happening to me now.”

“…… and what’s so bad about that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, dad knew big mama when they were both human. But that doesn’t mean that they don’t wanna be around you. It’s okay to have feelings for someone you like.”

“I guess your right.”

“See. You’re feeling better already.”

“I guess I am. Thanks, big bro.”

“Anytime. Now come on. There’s pizza on the table if you want a slice.”

Eyes widened

“Dibs on the first slice of pizza!”

“Alright.”

“Cool.”

“Fine by me”

“Awesome!”

Everyone started running around until one of them got a slice.

“Got it.”

“Oh come on!”

“Seriously?”

“What? I had to cheer myself up somehow.”

Everyone looked at raph.

“What?”

“Raph pile!”

“No no no no no!”

Everyone got all over raph and laughed about it while you were still your home wondering what the guys were doing. If you were in danger, they would always be there.

Strange love part 9

Night after night, day after day. Each day goes by and you two still become closer every time.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you doing here?”

“Just couldn’t be away from my favorite people in the world.”

“Awww”

“So how have you guys been so far?”

“Oh, you know, just going on crazy missions and fighting bad guys. Same old, same old.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, I thought you guys were busy. But is april around?”

“Yeah. She’s in the kitchen.”

“Great. Thanks.”

You walk in the kitchen and see april making pizza for the boys.

“Hey aps.”

“Y/n, hey! It’s so good to see you.”

“Good to see you too.”

You were so excited about seeing everyone, but it felt sad all the sudden.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. But can I talk to you about something in private?”

“Sure”

“(deep breath) I know I’ve been hanging around you guys and I was sorta thinking about living with you guys!”

“Y/n, that’s amazing! Have you told the guys about th-”

“Shh! Don’t say it so loud. No, I haven’t told them. I’m not ready. I don’t know how they’ll react.”

“I’m sure they’ll love the idea. It’d be nice to have you around with us.”

“Thanks april.”

“Anytime.”

And you two hug it out

[canis-or-cannotis-lycaon]

More Problems than Toppings

TIMING: The last week in May LOCATION: The Sly Slice PARTIES: Van (@vanoincidence) and Gael @lithium-argon-wo-l-f SUMMARY: Gael hits up the Sly Slice for some pizza but an exasperated Van doesn’t have any ingredients, only stress. (Janice fucked up. AGAIN.) CONTENT WARNINGS: None! Van stared at Janice, an incredulous expression peeling over her features. The woman in front of her seemed old enough to hold plenty of wisdom, but for some reason, she continuously fucked up. “How could you only order bell peppers?” It was a miracle that they had any marinara or dough. At least they had that. But they barely had any cheese. She would need to go to the store and buy cheese. She didn’t have the money to buy cheese, and Rocky wasn’t responding to any of her texts. Janice simply shrugged and turned around, heading towards the back. Van stared after her, having deja vu. How many times would this happen? Why was Janice still allowed to work there? 

She inhaled sharply, pinching her ear lobe between her fingers as a means for a distraction so she didn’t cry. The sound of the door opening sent her spinning, and she stared at a man she didn’t recognize. Why was he here? Just as Van was about to ask, she remembered where she was at. Which was at work. Where customers were allowed to come in. “Bell peppers.” Van let out a groan and she moved towards the register. “All we have is bell peppers, limited cheese.”

After doing a little bit of research regarding which pizza joint has a limited selection, Gael was able to surmise that the pizza parlor he talked with the individual known as Van online was called the Sly Slice. It looked quaint enough and he didn’t have to wonder long what the draw was as he glanced at the hours of operation - it was for those people that got kicked out of the bar and needed bread to sober up. Made sense, he wasn’t judging. Before he went in, he peered through the glass to see an employee with their back to the door. Gael opened it slowly as though trying not to scare the employee but evidently that didn’t work as she whipped around. After a brief moment of surprise himself, he offered a friendly smile but didn’t say anything until she did, the latter simply saying that they had bell peppers and limited cheese. He approached the counter as he tapped on his chin, glancing up in contemplation. What…what did she mean by that? He assumed she meant ‘the only toppings they had were bell peppers’ so he decided to work with that. “Two questions: What color bell peppers and how much cheese?” He asked, his tone lacking anything resembling judgment or irritation; as far as he was concerned, this was a challenge and he took to those like a fish to water.

“What color are the bell peppers?” Van’s voice cracked slightly (probably from the embarrassment), but when the answer didn’t come, she let out another groan and motioned for the man to wait before she disappeared into the back. The door to the back was kept open with a brick from behind the establishment and Van had half a mind to close it so that Janice would be forced to use the front door, but she instead went to the walk-in and checked to see what kind of peppers they had, as well as how much cheese was left. 

“They’re red, and about enough for four slices? Give or take.” She wasn’t even the one who made the pizza, which meant that this man would need to wait for Janice to get back from wherever she’d gone to make them. Van tried her best at a polite smile, but her irritation and stress from the impending doom that would be troves of college kids expecting pizza was too much to push down. “Sorry. This is just…” She inhaled sharply and grabbed the corners of the countertop. “Stressful.” 

From their short interaction coupled with the fact that the girl behind the counter couldn’t have been older than… he wanted to guess like 23, Gael had taken an educated guess that this wasn’t how she wanted to spend her time. He also imagined that while he was able to roll with the punches of red bell peppers and enough cheese for four slices of a pizza, he was sure other people wouldn’t be nearly as patient. Time to adjust the trajectory a little bit. Call them Gael’s parent senses or perhaps just his professor’s intuition. “Yeah, it sounds that way,” He replied sympathetically as he leaned against the counter opposite the stressed girl. “So let’s brainstorm,” He suggested, noting her behavior. “What can I do to help?”

Van had expected the man to storm off in a huff, to tell her that she and Sly Slice were terrible and that he would never be coming back. It surprised her when he told her that they could brainstorm, and the dent in her brows only deepened as he asked what he could do to help. 

“Wait, seriously? You came here for pizza, you don’t need to ask how to help.” If anything, she should be offering him the slices at a discounted price, or giving him a coupon so he’d come back later when they were better stocked. Van swallowed thickly, the stress still making her stomach hurt. “My boss isn’t picking up the phone, so I can’t exactly go and buy more without his approval.” 

“Hmm,” Gael hummed in thought, his own brow furrowing as he thought. Unfortunately he wasn’t entirely a skilled chef so his thought process was rather limited. More importantly though, he knew the young employee behind the counter was, for appropriate reasons, probably freaking out about this whole ordeal so he made sure to keep his composure light and calm. He tapped his fingers on the counter and let the thought sit for a few moments so as to not seem like the answer was too obvious. “Well, what if I went to pick some up for you?” Gael asked, giving her a sideways look. “I have the time, you won’t get in trouble for leaving or spending money without his permission and it might help alleviate some of your stress,” He suggested before adding “I came for pizza, sure but it’s not the end of the world. Pizza will come, just not right now.” He shrugged. “That… sounded like it held a lot more wisdom than it did.” He chuckled.

Van still wasn’t sure about this random stranger’s unsolicited act of kindness. Did they even make those kinds of people anymore? Was she on some kind of hidden camera show where something terrible happened and then they sent somebody else in to see how they’d deal with it? But then wouldn’t she need to be aware? “You can’t just buy stuff for a pizza shop you don’t work at.” It was a good plan, but Van didn’t feel right with him spending his own money, and she really doubted Rocky would reimburse him. 

“No, it had tons of wisdom, but seriously, are you serious?” Van pressed her tongue against the side of her cheek as she turned around to look into the back where the kitchen was. Janice wasn’t doing anything because they were out of all but a few ingredients now. “I’ll pay you out of my paycheck, I can do that.” She looked back over at him. “I just– I can’t lose this job, and I’m almost sure that Rocky will blame me.” This man didn’t know who Rocky was and it didn’t matter. “But–” doubts laid thick over her like a blanket. “You don’t need to, that’s too much.” 

“Can I not?” Gael asked casually, though he supposed it made sense - how would it seem if some random guy from off the street offered to buy anything for a business? They had suppliers, specific brands, not to mention the implications and possible health violations of just taking whatever he could give them. “Well…” He trailed off with a small sigh, accompanying a slightly furrowed brow. She asked if he was serious and Gael looked at her before following her movement to glance at the door that presumably led to the back. He tapped on his chin in thought. “Yeah, I’m being serious,” He assured before adding “And no, I’m not being paid to, like, pull a prank on you. I was your age once; you don’t have to compensate for anything,” He continued, starting to pull out his wallet as a gesture that he was, in fact, being serious while still maintaining his easygoing attitude. “Alternatively, you could close the store since you’re out of ingredients and it’s not your fault. …Or if you want, I can help you search for a different job,” He suggested with a half-shrug, looking at her earnestly. “So tell me Van: what do you want to do right at this moment?”

Van didn’t have the money to repay this guy, not in full, but she would have to do something to figure it out. He was offering her a solution she didn’t previously have and she was grateful for that. Her eyebrows furrowed. How had he known she was thinking that. “I mean, I know you were, but that might have been a really long time–” She stopped herself. “Only like what, ten years ago?” This man didn’t look thirty, but he did look good for whatever age he was supposed to be, she guessed. “Sorry. I don’t socialize a lot.” Not a total lie.

As he pulled out his wallet, Van felt her guilt begin to bubble. She heard something from the back. Hopefully it was Janice. “I can’t just quit.” She liked her other co-workers, and what would it say about her resume? She would have hopped from different job to different job in a matter of months. She couldn’t afford all of Wicked’s Rest to think that she wasn’t capable of working through just a few short months. “And I don’t–” Van looked around, then towards the street through the large windows at the front of the shop. Closing would mean losing money, but it wasn’t like they could make any while being out of ingredients. “I think you’re right… about just closing.” It was easier than taking his money, that was for sure. She fidgeted with the end of her bright orange t-shirt and chewed on her bottom lip before giving him a nod as if to reaffirm her decision. “I guess Rocky will have to deal.” How she thought she could even operate the store without ingredients, she wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry that you had to deal with any of that, I just didn’t know what to do.” At least there’d been no literal meltdown. 

“Try twenty,” He laughed. “You flatter me though, señorita; most old people like me find it charming when you youngins try to pass off our age.” As he spoke, Gael wondered why Van didn’t socialize much… Was it because she was introverted? Did she not have many friends? Perhaps she was studying really hard and this was the only thing that pulled her out into the public, if only forcibly. He could understand the third explanation but he didn’t envy the ones who didn’t have a support network or the confidence to put themselves out there. Then again, that required a lot of humility and he remembered not being exactly shameless when he was young. She started verbally running through her options. This was good, at least she wasn’t completely collapsing in on her thoughts - those led to anxiety and THAT led to spontaneous decisions that would have to be explained later. Gael knew about those too. When the young adult made the choice to close down the store, he gave her a smile, put his wallet away and patted the counter. “I think that’s a good idea.” He agreed. “You seem competent and like a bright person; if this Rocky fella knows what he’s got, he won’t be mad. Especially if he’s not answering his phone.” The professor gave her a gentle smile and pushed a twenty-dollar bill towards her on the counter. “I find it always helps to discuss ideas aloud with someone else.” He tilted his head slightly. “That way you don’t feel like you’re making such a big decision entirely by yourself, even if it’s the right one.” Gael pulled away from the counter and placed a hand on his lower back, leaning back to pop it. “And no apologies, Ms. Van. I’m just happy to have been here to help.” He paused. “You’re Van, right? If not, then it’s MY turn to apologize.” He chuckled.

Twenty, Van mouthed, nodding as if in some kind of approval that he hadn’t asked for. “Sure, twenty, then.” She gave him a tight lipped smile. It was weird, talking about ages. He was a little older then, than her parents had been when they passed. Would her dad have the same graying hair, and would her mom have the same lines by her eyes? She shook the thought and pressed her hands firmly against the countertop. 

At his compliment, Van shook her head. “I kind of just want to go home and sleep this off, so it’s a win-win, you know?” Not a complete lie, even though she knew she’d have to explain to Rocky how half of their ingredients had just disappeared. She couldn’t hear Janice in the back anymore, so maybe she left, too. Van bit the inside of her cheek, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. “Thanks for helping me out.” He’d only really helped her think things through, but Van wasn’t sure she would have come to the conclusion on her own. She would have tried to run the store despite the lack of ingredients or help. 

She looked down as Gael pushed the twenty dollar bill her way. Van shook her head at it, trying her best to push it back towards him but he’d already stepped away from the counter. “Yeah, I guess…” She looked down at the bill, doing her best to not think about how she’d waste it on something stupid. “Mmm, yeah, not like the car.” A brief pause. “Thank you again, I mean it… I.. don’t really think clearly, sometimes, and this… you helped.” She smiled at him again, this time more genuine. “But um, did you.. well, if you don’t want the weird one-topping slice, or just cheese, I’ll get you back once we’re rightfully stocked, I swear.” She held up her hands to show she wasn’t crossing her fingers.  Gael gave the young woman a wink with the same easygoing smile, noting her body language and her tone; she was relaxing a little bit, which was good. “Like I said, just happy to help.” He straightened up his suit from leaning on the counter. “Go home, don’t even worry about the rest of today. Take a nap, eat some good food, this is officially a problem for the tomorrow version of you.” He nodded.

“As such, I ain’t gonna make you slave over a little pizza with bell peppers and enough cheese for four slices. I’ll get out of your hair so you can close up and go home - like I said, pizza will come.” Gael gave her one last look before putting one of his hands in his pockets. “Have a good rest of your day!” He waved her off as he departed from the pizza joint, still hungry but very happy that he was able to help.