#hm? none. well are you gonna fix that or what

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

Transcript:

Machine, there are two wolves inside of you, they are kissing *kissing sounds* and they are both boys!

Audio source

[cheynovak]

Can you do a fic where the reader Jensen wife likes doing tiktok trends and finally gets him to do one please when you get time that is maybe have were he only does it if she does that thing he likes

Hi! @deanwinchestersgirl8734

I love that request! I happened to be off from work today so I had spare time today! Here it is ❤️ I hope you like it!

Warnings: None, all fluff, maybe little grumpy Jensen, but that's cute.

English is not my first language 

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

'That tiktok-thing'

You sit on the couch, scrolling through your phone as comments flood in on your latest TikTok. There it is again — the same questions you’ve been getting for months.

*“When is Jensen gonna join one of your TikToks?”* *"How is Jensen?"* *"When are we going to see Jensen?"*

You smile to yourself. They always ask. No matter how many times you’ve said he’s not interested in tiktok, the fans just keep pushing for it. And honestly, you can’t blame them. Jensen, your ridiculously handsome husband, would be a hit on TikTok.

Not that you haven’t tried before.

You glance over at him, lounging on the other end of the couch with his eyes glued to the TV. He’s so relaxed, totally in his element, blissfully unaware that you’re scheming again.

"Hey, babe?" you say sweetly, leaning over just enough to catch his attention.

“Hm?” he hums, not even looking up.

“Everyone’s asking when you’re going to make a TikTok with me,” you say, dragging out the words in your best attempt to sound innocent.

Jensen doesn’t even flinch, eyes still fixed on the screen. “Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, pouting a little, “you already do TikTok trends with your PA. Why not me?”

That gets his attention. His eyebrows shoot up, and he turns to look at you, an incredulous smile tugging at his lips. “She tricks me into doing them. There’s a difference.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, sure, she tricks you. Right. Is that what we’re calling it now?”

"Come on babe, it's your fans that ask for it. Not me, you know... you call them your supernatural family, those people who love you for what, almost twenty years now." You weren't planning on giving up. He smirks and say, "I do plenty of cameos for Mish on socials." You sigh dramatically.

Jensen chuckles, his eyes returning to the TV, clearly thinking the conversation is over. But you're not giving up that easily.

You get up from your spot on the couch and crawl over to him, positioning yourself right in his lap, effectively blocking his view of the TV. He gives you an amused look, his hands instinctively resting on your hips as you settle in.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” he asks, though there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“I’m just saying,” you begin, leaning closer until your faces are only inches apart, while your fingers play with his shirt. “I could make it worth your while…”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “Worth my while, huh? And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”

You grin mischievously, biting your lip before you speak. “I’ll do that thing you like…”

His expression shifts instantly, his eyes widening in surprise, looking at your lips. “T-The thing thing?” he stammers, trying to play it cool but failing miserably.

You nod, giving him an exaggerated wink. “Uh-huh. That thing.”

Jensen swallows hard, glancing from you to the TV behind you, then back again. Trying to act like it was a very hard decision to make. His resolve is clearly crumbling, and you can see the gears turning in his head as he weighs his options.

Finally, with a dramatic sigh, he gives in. “Well… I guess I can be persuaded.”

You let out a small cheer, throwing your arms around his neck. “You won’t regret it!” Jensen smirks, pulling you closer. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I won’t.”

As you lean in to kiss him, you can already imagine the look on your followers’ faces when they finally see Jensen making an appearance in your next TikTok. "I love you!"

Jensen lifts you up and starts making his way towards the bedroom. You make sure your feet touch the ground before you say. "What do you think you're doing."

His thumb point towards the bedroom. With a confused look. You kiss him and pur sweetly "That's payment babe, first the tiktok."

His shoulders drop, his head falls back with a dramatic sigh. "Fine."

All enthusiastic, you grab Jensen’s arm and pull him toward the kitchen, where the lighting is perfect for filming. “Come on, this is going to be fun!” you say, practically bouncing on your feet as you show him the ideas you’ve saved on your phone.

Jensen raises an eyebrow, looking less than convinced. “I’m not doing that,” he says, crossing his arms at the first suggestion.

You sigh, swiping to the next. “Okay, what about this one? Super easy!”

Jensen shakes his head without even blinking. “Nope. Not even that.”

You pout, trying to think of something that might entice him. Then it hits you. “Oh, I get it… Maybe this couple dance?” You scroll to a clip of a romantic dance challenge, but Jensen's eyes go wide with mock horror.

“What?! Are we starring in, Dirty Dancing now? Sweetheart, I’m not Patrick Swayze,” he teases, though the smile on his face betrays him.

You start giggling, imagining it. “You’d look great in the water though. Ooooh maybe you could lift me in the pool?”

Jensen lets out a laugh, shaking his head as if he can’t believe you. “Yeah, that’s exactly what this is missing. Me, soaking wet, attempting a lift. Very graceful.”

After a few more playful back-and-forths, you finally settle on a classic: the “Islands in the Stream” shuffle, inspired by David and Victoria Beckham. It's cute, fun, and simple enough. Plus, it fits the vibe of the two of you perfectly. You’ll start the dance, and Jensen will come in later, pretending it is all natural.

He gives a reluctant sigh. “Alright, fine. But no lifts.”

You grin victoriously, quickly setting up the phone to capture the perfect angle. With the music queued, you start dancing, following the rhythm, moving effortlessly through the routine. At first, you think Jensen might back out last minute, but to your surprise, he steps into frame exactly when he’s supposed to, nailing the timing.

And then, out of nowhere, he starts singing along.

“Islands in the stream, that is what we are…”

You nearly mess up the next step because you’re trying not to look head over heels when he sings, but his voice is so smooth, and he’s actually getting into it. He flashes you a playful grin, clearly enjoying the moment, even though he’d never admit it.

By the end of the dance, Jensen even improvised, he turns you and pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist. Before you can even react, he dips his head and captures your lips in a soft, lingering kiss — the perfect romantic finale.

You hear the TikTok music fade, signaling the end of the clip, but the two of you stay there for a moment longer.

When you finally pull back, Jensen looks down at you with that signature smirk of his. “See? Not so bad, was it?” You smile up at him, your heart doing little flips.

“Nope. Totally worth it.” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “that thing you promised better be worth it too.”

You laugh, leaning into his chest as the phone chimes, notifying you that the TikTok is ready for editing. “Oh, it will be.”

As you check the footage, you realize it’s even better than you imagined. And Jensen? Well, let’s just say the fans are going to lose their minds.

But he takes your phones out of your hands and place it on the kitchen counter, "Now..." he said while walking you back towards the bedroom.

"... making love to each other ah-ha..." he singles softly under his breath. And all you could do was follow along.

He deserved... that thing.

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@yvonneeeee @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27

@winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @whimsyfinny

[superluver]

how about fake dating with satoru gone wrong 👀 (they fall for each other)

Do you see what you do to me? G.S.

Pairing: Gojo Satorux Fem!Reader

wc: 3271 | cw: gojo has dimples, CURSING, fluff, angst if you squint, overthinking, Gojo is TOUCHYY, FEM!READER, cuddling, Gojo being a gentlemen?!, SLIGHTLY SUGGESTIVE

Description: Gojo is attending a month long ceremony, and as a single head, the higher-ups would do anything to pair him up with a powerful sorceress. Gojo invites you to go with him, as his lover.

Im sorry, who ever requested this if this isnt what you were looking for you can request me again and i'll fix it, @teaaleefs thank you again for helping w the story

“You want me to what?” You gape at the man who is kneeling on the ground before you. His eyes bandaged with a pouty lip to make up for the lack of eye contact.

“Please, (Y/N)?!” He begs, grabbing on your pant leg, tugging at you relentlessly. “DAMN IT GOJO,”

“Satoru,” he corrects, but your eyes are ablaze with anger. “You’re gonna tear up my pants again! This is my last pair—!”

He ignores your complaint, continuing to tug hard at the cloth. Your arms are holding down on the stretched fabric, and you pray it’s enough.

Gojo has a tendency to pull on your leg— literally— every time he wants you to do something for him.

“Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease,”

You groan in annoyance, eyebrows furrowed as your arms pull away from your pants. Instead, your hands slam onto the arm rests of your chair. “FINE— Yes, fine I will help you! Just let go—”

Rip

The two of you stare at the damage he had caused, your face emotionless.

“Oopsie?”

“Gojo, get out before I change my mind.”

He stands up quickly, saluting you before walking off. “Roger.”

You slump back into your seat with a sigh, rubbing the corners of your eyes.

What did you just get yourself into?

It’s a major event, a gala if you will, for the 3 Big Clans. Festivities for a consecutive month. And Gojo— Satoru, Satoru has no doubt that the higher ups are going to try and set him up with a powerful sorceress.

That’s where you come in.

For this entire month, you will be treated as the Gojo clan head’s lover. And it’s a big responsibility at that. Not only must you demonstrate your ability and your worthiness, the higher ups may begin to throw jobs at you left and right in order to see you falter.

It’s shameful to see the lady of the house falter at a trivial matter.

On the day of, the two of you were wearing extremely formal wear. Kimono’s in plain colors of blue and white; matching. Unconsciously you squeeze his hand for some form of comfort, protection, even.

You feel his gaze on you, your eyes meeting his crystal colored ones. His gaze is conceited, eyebrows raised, shit-eating grin… that fucker was annoying.

“G—Satoru,” you call out his name, casting him a seemingly polite closed eyed smile, your lips pressed together. It was clear you were agitated— if anyone knew better that is.

And there was only one person who knew better, and that person would be Go— SATORU. Please! Get used to his name.

“Hm?” He hums almost snarkily. His eyes are still on you, but not on your face anymore.

Just you.

Taking in the ornaments adorning you, his eyes wandered over you. Over the kanzashi in your hair, the diamonds dangling from the ends of it.

As well as the strong, yet elegant, steps you took in your zori sandals. All that before finally settling on your fierce gaze. But you didn’t know that he was, well— checking you out.

His gaze seemed gentler, softer than it normally is, but to you it seemed like he was nitpicking you with his eyes; tearing you apart with every individual scan he made of your body.

And at that moment, you had never felt so bare in your life. The most cloth you had ever worn, wrapped around your body, yet he still had the talent to make it feel as though you wore none.

“You look beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, snapping you out of your trance. You stare at him, confused with his words.

He’s smiling at you and you can see a dimple— which you never knew he had— cratering his cheek.

‘How adorable,’

“Thank you,” you mumbled in reply, feeling a little shy at the sudden compliment.

His eyes still linger on you, burning your skin.

“ENTERING, GOJO CLAN.” Someone shouts followed by a loud drum.

Satoru, being Satoru, snorted loudly as the doors opened. He was never one for old fashioned traditions. You clenched his hand, and to your surprise he squeezed back, smiling brightly at you as the large doors creaked open.

It was assumed Gojo would go alone like he did every year. So imagine the surprise on the elder’s and higher-ups' faces when you showed up, holding the young Gojo’s hand.

Your head was strongly held up, eyes blinking softly. Every time he glanced at you, he was reminded of a fairy from a story his nanny would tell him as a child.

“You’re staring, Gojo.” You say through clenched teeth, smiling at the elders.

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles back at you as he heads to the Gojo head’s seat. Normally, there would be two seats, one for the Lady and the Head. But, since Gojo always attended alone, they had left one seat.

Your face grew warm with embarrassment, having realized you would need to stand up at the table. You knew he would be the one sitting down so,

“Oh no, this won’t do.” He waves you over, hands on your shoulder as he guides you to his seat, pushing you down. The elder’s gape at his actions.

The lady sitting at the head’s seat? It’s uncalled for!

His hand slides down your arm, grabbing ahold of your hand. He pulls it up, placing a lingering kiss to your palm, his blue uncovered eyes staring back at you. “Anything for my lady,” he confesses, and you begin to stammer.

“G-go—”

“Satoru,” he whispers back, your palm still covering his mouth.

Eyes half-lidded, anyone would think he was in love with you.

Then, you feel wet. Your hand… was wet?

HE LICKED YOU?!

You feel the need to scream, but in order to keep your image you tug your hand back, wiping it on his own kimono rather than your own. He laughs in response, trying to dodge your currently slobbery hand.

Your eyebrows are furrowed, hand still extended trying to wipe it.

Finally, you get it on him, wiping your hand off of his drool.

“Ahem!”

Your head turns creakily to the voice that commanded your attention. A very wrinkly man, fist to his mouth.

You sweat, adjusting yourself in the very comfortable seat. Satoru has your hand in his own, his thumb rubbing circles on the backside of your palm.

You truly seemed like a couple in other people’s eyes. Satoru, a normally childish person, allowing his lover his seat. Something he probably would never do for anyone.

The old man reads some scriptures from the beginning of time, and you find yourself dozing off, blinking slowly.

Suddenly, his mouth nears your ear, bringing you to shiver at his hot breath hitting your neck and ear. “Don’t fall asleep now,” he teases.

You flutter your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow with pressed lips.

He smiles, and you smile back this time. With infinity being off, you never knew he could be so warm.

When you look at him, he seems like he’d be cold. Body temperature lower than the norm, but it’s surprisingly quite the opposite.

His hands are warm, radiating with heat. You wonder if even on the coldest days he would stay warm.

“I should be telling you that,” you whisper back, smirking at him. He, with raised eyebrows, steps closer to you before seating himself on the minimal space left on his your chair. When he realizes that the two of you won’t fit, he lifts you up, placing you on his lap. His arms wrap around you, securing you so you don’t run off. You squirm in his hold, but he tightens his grip.

His voice goes an octave lower, and into your ear he whispers. “I wouldn't do that if I were you..”

It was almost like a groan the way he said it, and it took two and two to put it together.

You stiffen, almost becoming statue-like as he chuckles into your shoulder, batting his long white eyelashes at you.

“You’re sick.” You spat.

“Just playing the part, sweetheart— hey! That rhymed!”

The elder finishes the scriptures, and that’s when it's time for sorcerers all alike to converse and meet heads of different clans. Though, for being a small percent of the population, there sure were a lot of people here.

“Okay sweetcheeks, time to get up.” He laughs loudly, lifting you up with him as he stands. His arms still wrapped around your waist, forearms in your armpits holding you up. Your feet grazing the ground.

“Let me go!” You swing and wriggle in his grasp, and he laughs manically, setting you down.

“Remember,” he tells you while you brush yourself off, straightening your kimono with an annoyed expression. “I’m Satoru to you— come up with a nickname if worst comes to worst.”

“Got it.” You say with clenched teeth, walking off towards the crowd of people. Satoru trailing closely behind, which gathers unnecessary attention.

“Why are you following me?!” You whisper-shout, and he grabs your wrist, tapping his finger on his cheek motioning for something. He stands with a minor slouch, as if he is leaning for something.. for you.

“What?” You ask, and he says nothing, continuing to tap on his cheek.

Your eyes go wide when you realize what he wants.

A kiss.

Unable to fight or deny out in the open you bite your tongue, pressing your plush lips to his pale cheek. He smirks, pulling your face closer, his pointy nose hitting yours. You can smell the dessert on his breath.

“One more?”

With a roll of your eyes, you bring your free hand up to his face and flick his forehead. While he’s busy rubbing his head in agony, you yank your wrist back, stomping off and away from the man.

“(Y/N)!!!” He calls your name, which sounds distant as you immerse tourself in the crowd of people.

Many woman and younger men stare at you bashfully, few tilting their head with respect as you step through. Their faces reddened at the scene of the strongest sorcerer bowing down to a measly woman.

The thought threw the higher-ups into a fit.

They had to get rid of you.

“How did you guys meet?” A woman asks you, a warm tea cup in your hand. You’re sipping it slowly, eyes scanning the room as you remenise back to the time when you first encountered Gojo Satoru.

“I met Gojo at the Jujutsu Tech,” you confess, and the woman stares at you with a raised eyebrow. “Gojo? Wouldn’t you call him as his first name.”

Caught red handed, and it hadn’t even been a day.

“O-oh! Yeah, Satoru. It’s a long story, of course I call him Satoru.”

She squints at you, then going into a face of shock. She’s not looking at you anymlre, now at the person who looms behind you. “Havin’ a party without me?” He jokes, swinging an arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he waves her up, almost commanding her to move closer. The woman does as she’s told, hesitantly moving her head closer.

“I like when she calls me that in bed.”

You gape, she gasps, he grins.

Her face is cherry red, now unable to look you or Gojo in the eye. And with a bow, she steps away.

“Wow,” he breathes out, taking your cup from you and placing it on the table, continuing as he does this action. “Couldn’t even hold out for a day.”

“I'm sorry, old habits die hard.”

“Wow, are you like 50?”

You deadpan, slapping his chest with the palm of your hand.

“We’re gonna have to have one on one training.” He whispers into your ear, then blowing air into the canal. You slap a hand over it, glaring at him. He doesn’t seem to care, casting you his childish grin.

You feel your heart flutter, eyes widening at him. Those dimples again.

Your hand trails up his face, thumbs pressing into the dents in his cheeks. “You’ve got some cute dimples there big shot.” It was meant to be teasing, but you couldn’t help but truthfully mean what you said. They made him so much more attractive.

Everyone knows Satoru Gojo is an attractive man. Hell, even Utahime confessed he was good-looking.

It’s just a fact.

“Why thank you,” he smirks, tapping his head onto yours. “You seem tired, let's get you to bed, yeah?”

With a hand on the small of your back, he leads you out of the gathering. Everything felt too natural with him, and you find yourself doubting.

‘He’s probably been with many women..’

For the first time this night, you find your head hanging low, lips pouty.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“Whatever do you mean?” You snakily reply.

“You’re all… pouty.”

You raise an eyebrow and meet his eyes, though you say nothing as you stare at him. “I’m just tired,” And that wasn’t a lie. It was a partial truth!

He blinks at you, squinting before shrugging.

“Well, if you say so.”

He said that in a knowing tone, as though he knew you were lying. He probably did, cursed energy had a tendency to vibrate and move in uncertain ways when someone is nervous, and with his six eyes, he’s practically a walking lie detector.

He takes you to the hotel you would be staying at, walking to the room only to find there was only one bed.

“Ah.”

“Gojo, why is there only one bed?” You ask groggily, pointing at the large king size bed.

He shrugs, almost clueless and as confused as you, he responds, “I have no clue. Maybe there was a mix up?” (He does very much does have a clue, he was the one that reserved the single bed).

“No, I guess it's alright. It is a pretty big bed, just dont touch me.” You tell him sharply, waving your finger at him.

He pouts, crossing his arms. “I can't make any promises, sweetheart.”

You click your tongue, grabbing your pajamas and undergarments and storming off to the bathroom.

He watches you silently enter the bathroom, and when you come out a while later.

Hair damp, a towel around your neck catching the moisture. Your lips parted, eyes closed... a satisfied expression.

He finds himself staring at you, and YOU catch him.

“Gojo? The shower is ready.” You tell him, placing the towel in a bin the room service provided. He blinks before he scrambles off the bed, dashing into the bathroom.

“Hm, I feel like im forgetting—”

A loud, high pitched scream erupts from Satoru. Soon after the bathroom door slams open, Satoru holding up your underwear with it hooked around his finger.

“You, uh— probably want this back.”

If you could die right now, you would.

Quickly, you snatch it away. Face as warm as you feel. Unable to meet his uncovered eyes, you stare down, “Y-yeah, thanks.”

He’s still standing in front of you, and you finally glance up. Blue hues stare into your own. He makes the prettiest eyes boring compared to his own.

“You should go shower,” you tell him, and he nods slowly, turning to enter the bathroom once more.

You dispose of the dirty clothes, placing them in the bin before making yourself comfortable on the right side of the bed.

“Oh no. I’m on the right, you’re the left.” He tells you once he comes back, pointing at you and the empty side of the bed.

You already started dozing off, you don’t open your eyes. Instead, you sink further into your pillow, “Too bad,” You mutter.

He grumbles, glancing left and right before sighing. You expect him to give up from the tone of that sigh, but what you DONT expect is for him to jump on you, full weight on your body.

“GOJO!” You screech, squirming away and trying to push him off.

“No.” Is the only word that comes out of his mouth.

“Offffff…! Off, off, off, off, offf!” You groan, pushing and hitting him with your palms.

He smiles into the sheets and you, his arms wrapping around you.

“Good night..”

“SATORU!” You scream, rolling away from his grip to the left, leaving him to the right. He sighs, slipping into the sheets before reaching his arms out once more, dragging you over to him.

Your back pressed on his chest, his arms wrappung around you. “Satoru, what are you doing?"

“Sleeping.”

You sigh, grumbling but not moving away. You liked this.. Not like you would ever admit it though.

His nose is buried in your hair, so much so that he can smell your shampoo. It’s nostalgic from your highschool days, when he first saw you pass by him, that same smell was much stronger than now.

It was like getting a whiff of roses, so refreshing the smell was. The smell would linger for long, and there would be days where he would pause in the hallway, taking deep inhales of your scent.

Now, it’s died down. Very faint, but still there. He doesn't even remember strengthening his hold around your waist, his head sinking further into your hair, spooning you.

Your body was swallowed in his much larger one, it was almost funny how much of a giant he was.

Like he was meant to be someone big in this world.

You’re a nobody, only given an opportunity to spend your days with this man before again going your separate ways.

So you'll take this in as much as you can. Allowing yourself to relax in the grip of the strongest, because he wasn't yours. However you can't say that you aren't his; your heart has been his for a long time.

You wonder if he can feel the thumping of your heart. It's worrisome. A tell-tale sign you’re nervous.

You can only sigh, not remembering when or how, but you begin to finally doze off.

Gojo, on the other hand, is not fully awake but awake enough to be aware of his surroundings. His lips end up curving slightly. Much to your dismay, he can in fact hear the erratic pumping of your heart.

He has to hold back his laugh, ‘you’re nervous,’ he thinks, his eyes half-lidded slits. Blue hues peering at the side of your face through your hair.

You don’t even know what you do to him. The way he keeps this façade, but in reality, his heart’s pounding through his chest and ready to burst. It’s giving him away too.

‘Can you really not feel it?’ He wonders, eyes shutting once more.

Since highschool, ever since you passed by him with that smell of flowers on a spring day, you’ve had him wrapped around your finger.

He’s yours, and he’s trying to let you know that he’s always been yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, before succumbing to his own exhaustion.

Little did he know, you weren’t all that asleep.

In the dark, your eyes went wide, and breathing halted. If you started breathing, you think you would gove away the fact that you weren't truly asleep.

Your face grew warm, and through that look of shock, a smile settled on your lips. Your hands finding his own— which are wrapped around your waist— you squeeze them.

It was your way of letting him know, ‘Me too, I love you too,’ without using your words.

And finally, your slumber comes too. Another couple days of acting as Gojo’s lover, might as well make the most of it.

[missviviii]

I saw your post and could I request a Zayne fluff where he comes home from a tiring work day & us making him a coffee + preparing a warm bath

a/n: ooooh!!! sure!! <3

.

ミ★ Love & Deepspace ミ★

pairing: zayne x reader

warning(s): none

summary: zayne has been so busy lately, and you decided to help him relax after a late night at work with a warm bubbly bath and a cup of coffee with a side of him laying in between your legs with his head stuffed into your chest.

“Best Thing to Come Home to.”

It’s no surprise that Zayne often goes home late and always wake up super duper early. Lately, you’ve been staying at his place since your place needed some of its heating and plumbing fixed and other issues. Very much reluctantly so (actually he agreed quite quickly), he let you stay with him until your place was finished.

You worked as a Hunter, yes, and there were days where you had to pull all-nighters or wake up extremely early for missions, but on the whole, you felt like Zayne had very little time to relax properly. So for today, you decided to pamper him a bit, helping your dear Zayne relax.

Tick Tock the sound of his clock in his office ticked. On it, it read 11:20 pm. Just some minutes away from midnight. Zayne sighs, leaning back in his chair as he takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. Just a few more files, and he’ll be able to go home, maybe even sleep in for an extra few minutes since he actually had some leeway in his schedule tomorrow. He put back on his glasses, continuing to work on those patient files before he turned off the lights in his office then left.

You were in the kitchen, brewing some fresh piping hot coffee for Zayne while you were preparing a small dinner for him. You didn’t really cook often, but sometimes you did when you really felt like it. Zayne had texted you he was heading home in about 20 minutes, and you had already prepared a nice warm bath for him. You were reading the news on your phone when you heard the door open, and a tired voice came out. “I’m home,” Zayne said as he hung up his coat on the coat hanger. His house smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Zayne looked towards the kitchen, where you were just leaving after finishing your hands.

“Hey! Thought I’d make a cup of coffee for you. Also, I prepared you a warm bath upstairs.” You smiled while you leaned against the doorway, watching him look at you in a certain way. Well aren’t you nice today? Not that he didn’t like it… In fact, he very much did like it.

Zayne only hummed as he took off his shoes. “Aren’t you being nice today?” He mused, looking at you with a slight tilt to his head. He leaned in close, closely inspecting your face. “What’s the occasion? I don’t usually return from work to find you being so nice. Perhaps you are sick?” He put his hand up to your forehead, to which you swatted away.

“I’m gonna take back the bath and the coffee if you don’t stop messing with me!” You pouted as you turned your back around and stormed off to the kitchen

Zayne let out a sigh, not a disappointment one, but more of an amused one. He took off his glasses before heading to the bathroom, where you had prepared a bath for him already. “Very nice of you, hm?” He muttered to himself as he closed the door and took off his uniform, slowly sliding himself into the warm water. It smelled like lavender and vanilla, mainly because you had used lavender soap for the bubble bath and had vanilla scented candles all around.

You were laying on the couch and on your phone, texting Tara about your plans to hang out whenever you both are off of work. You didn’t notice Zayne coming down, clad in his comfy pajamas and his black hair messy. Suddenly, you felt someone climbing onto the couch and hovering over you. “Zayne?” You called out as you looked away from your phone, only to find him shifting around and laying in between your legs, head on your chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist. “I made coffee, do you want any?”

“Later. Let me have this for now,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his face closer against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed your hands running through his hair. You were like a personal heater, your body warmer compared to his. And he lived for the cuddles and hugs you provided. “Just another minute with you, my love.”

[favesgrave]

A Key Advantage

quick note before we begin: i KNOWWW i said i was abandoning this series but inspiration struck! and i wrote this! i don't know what the future holds! also the title's a pun. haha. get it. key advantage. because key can mean important. and it's also about how the omega keys give them an advantage. please laugh

((Navigation))

---

There’d been nothing short of panic when they lost Smokescreen to the Decepticons. With their warship’s shielding, there was no way to track him, and that meant there was no way to retrieve him. Furthermore, the ragtag team of Autobots deduced that Smokescreen wasn’t the key himself, but rather a vessel for it—something about Alpha Trion running out of time as the Decepticons stormed the place.

Seeing as they took Smokescreen, the Decepticons were on the same page as them.

Blurr wasn’t close to an expert on this world (yet), but he knew Cybertron was dead here. He knew how important this was to them all and, like them, he knew homesickness well. The more he dwelled on that, the more he realized how far back that feeling stretched. His first intel mission had lasted two deca-cycles, just long enough for his Cybertron to feel far, far away.

And since then, he had always been moving, running from one assignment to the next. Hm.

“What’re we going to do?” Bumblebee asked.

“Smokescreen has the phase-shifter on him if I’m not mistaken and he’s a clever bot but don’t tell him I said that, so one can assume there’s a chance he’ll find his own way to escape especially since blasterfire won’t affect him due to the phase-shifter’s properties!” Blurr suggested, pacing back and forth as he tried to grab onto hope.

“Is that gonna matter when he’s hundreds of feet in the air?” Arcee questioned.

“Would the phase-shifter let him go through the ground?”

“None of us have tried,” Bulkhead said.

“That’s not a no, Bulkhead!”

“And it’s not a yes either,” Ratchet butt in. “For all we know, it could be too late for Smokescreen.”

Blurr’s spirit dulled slightly. “It is likely that the Decepticons would remove any sort of devices he had on him to store away in their own vault…”

“Enough,” Optimus said. “I will not give up on Smokescreen just yet. Ratchet, continue your efforts to pinpoint his location. We cannot allow one of our own and the revival of our planet to lie in the hands of the Decepticons.”

There was no arguing with the Prime—not that anyone wanted to. Now? The only thing to be done was wait. There was nothing they could do to help Ratchet, nothing they could do to fix the situation and Spark, did they feel like this all the time? Like they were falling, failing at rapid speeds, and left with nothing to even try and pick up the pieces? Why was it like this? Why couldn’t things be right, where the Autobots had won and the Decepticons were the ones running and everything was simple?

“Whoa, keep pacing around like that and you’re gonna knock down a wall,” Bulkhead said. Arcee glanced over.

“Or pace yourself into the ground until you meet Unicron,” Bumblebee added.

Blurr wasn’t even going to ask.

He hadn’t even noticed the excessive pacing, nor was he embarrassed about it. It was natural for a bot like him to always be moving. But, he realized they weren’t giving him funny looks about it, not like some did in the past. 

“You said it yourself that there’s a chance Smokescreen’s fighting his way off that ship,” Arcee said. “Let’s hold onto that, yeah?” 

Just as he was about to nod, a beep sounded from one of Ratchet’s many monitors.

“Smokescreen’s signal, it’s back online!”

“The kid escaped the warship!” Bulkhead exclaimed. When Blurr came over to see, the bigger bot gave him an uncharacteristically gentle tap on the shoulder. Even he knew his usual strength would send him careening smackdown into the ground.

“Smokescreen to base, I could really use a groundbridge!”

Oh, under the right circumstances, Blurr just loved being right.

What came after that was a series of far too-close calls that ended in them briefly thinking Smokescreen’s free fall ended with him becoming flattened until finally, in a classic Smokescreen fashion, he revealed himself to still be kicking. Then he came through that groundbridge, grinning, brushing himself off for a bit of extra flair, and most importantly, holding three Omega Keys.

“You got them?” Bulkhead managed.

“I figured you would find a means of escaping but not once did I consider you would circle back to collect the Keys even though it makes plenty of sense given your track record,” Blurr admitted.

“Didn’t I tell you?” he said to them all, crossing over to set the keys down on a metal crate. “Destiny! Alpha Trion knew I’d keep it safe.”

Arcee, with all her criticisms of him, let the scowl fall from her face and replaced it with a smile. “Nice work, kid.”

“Hang on.” Bumblebee started counting down the retrieved number on his fingers, dismayed with the results. “That’s only two.”

“It was the only key in Megatron’s vault,” Smokescreen shrugged.

Optimus frowned, picking both up. “Then three keys are accounted for.”

“Then the fourth is still somewhere on the Con’s warship,” Bulkhead responded.

“Unless Megatron never had it to begin with,” Blurr and Arcee both said, though the former got it out faster.

And as if on cue, they received a message. “A high frequency signal,” Ratchet turned toward it first, “with an embedded message.”

“Starscream,” Bulkhead said, glowering.

Blurr had the pleasure of not running into this universe’s Starscream yet. After the whole fiasco with his clones back in his own universe, he had decided that if he ever met a Starscream again, it would be too soon. As he moved away from everyone else for a better look, he took half of a moment to study this Starscream. He tried not to grimace at the sight of him. He was mostly gray, reminding him of the faded colors a bot changed when they met death. He was mean and nasty looking, even his chin looked like it could impale something. He was positive that every second he spent in this world made his Decepticons much less intimidating.

When the full message came through, Ratchet got to reading. “I have obtained something of interest to you which seems to be of no practical use to me.”

“It’s gotta be the Omega Key!” Bulkhead insisted.

“He’s the one who blindsided me,” Smokescreen said, scowling at the realization. 

It was sound reasoning. Starscream was always a schemer, Blurr figured that was no different here.

“What else could Scream be referring to?” Arcee nodded.

“Ey-ep-ep!” Blurr still got caught off guard by that noise. “There’s more. Bring medical kit. I only ask for the surgical replacement of my t-cog in return.”

Bulkhead barked out a laugh at that statement. “Like we’re gonna give Scream back his wings!”

“Without the missing key, Cybertron will remain devoid of life,” Ratchet argued. Even more sound reasoning.

“Broken record, I know… but it could be a trick,” Arcee said.

Blurr glanced at her. “How many times has this happened in the past?”

“Listen, we were desperate. It’s a long story.” He’d have to mark it down for another time, then.

“It is possible Starscream does not yet realize the significance of what he holds,” Optimus said.

“And in the scenario that he does?” Blurr questioned, then remembered himself and straightened up. “Not that I meant any disrespect, sir!”

Optimus held a hand up in reassurance. “There’s no need for any of that, Blurr. But, the stakes are too great for us not to consider Starscream’s proposal. However, we will take precautions.”

The plan was for Optimus, Ratchet, and Bulkhead to take a bridge to Starscream’s coordinates and see what the Seeker had to offer while the rest of them remained at base. 

Blurr tapped his foot anxiously as they stood guard, glancing at the defensive Bumblebee and Arcee and then to the lax Smokescreen.

“How much you wanna bet something goes wrong?” Smokescreen asked.

“I’d rather not think about it if you don’t mind,” Blurr said, squirming.

Each second gone by with no word from the others was agonizing. Not just for him, either. He could tell the others were as on edge as him. He kept his optics trained on the open groundbridge, waiting to see some familiar teammates come back through holding their missing Omega Key—

Something ran through.

Someone ran through. And no one else noticed. 

Blurr glanced behind as quietly as he could to find Starscream standing inside their base. “It would seem I have the run of the place,” he said.

Why was he so fast? He shouldn’t be that fast, right? The Autobots would have mentioned if Starscream had superspeed that rivaled his own! Scratch that, actually—with the way he was moving, Starscream was even faster than him. It was some kind of enhancement, it had to be, there was no other explanation. As the daunting mech traversed over to the other bots and mused about how easy it would be to slaughter them, Blurr kept still. If he didn’t move, he wouldn’t be noticed. Hopefully. Starscream’s words were fast enough to give reason for Blurr to wonder if this was how others felt when he talked. But, he could still make it all out.

“Another new one?” He knelt down, the only way he could even come close to Blurr’s level. Starscream’s red optics pierced into him, a scowl engraved onto his face as he studied the blue bot. “You’re a funny looking one, aren’t you?” A long, sharp claw raised up and traced along his face, tapping his optic.

Blurr didn’t let himself think about all the other bots that had likely been gutted with those hands.

Stay still, he willed. Could Starscream see through his act? Evidently not.

“But, first thing’s first… where does Optimus keep his keyring?” He brought himself back up to his full height, abandoning the Autobots for later.

Scrap. Scrap scrap scrap. Starscream disappeared down the hallway, the hallway that contained all the relics!

Oh, under the wrong circumstances, he hated being right.

He was dimly aware of the others trying to make sense of things in real time, but he couldn’t spend another second on them. They couldn’t catch Starscream, so the burden fell to him. 

This universe was frighteningly close to giving him a nervous breakdown.

It looked like it was time to put that Elite Guard training to use. How it would fare against someone older, quicker, stronger, bigger… well, it didn’t do any good to think about that.

With nothing left to do, Blurr bolted down the hall. An explosion shook the base and he came to find Starscream walking through the smoke, the keys snug in his arms. He only stopped when he saw the newcomer in his path.

“Oh? What’s this?” 

Blurr didn’t have the time to dignify him with a response. He blinked and a high-heeled foot nearly shattered his front. He jumped to the left, staring up at Starscream wide-opticed. He hadn't had such a close call like that since… never, actually.

Starscream really was faster than him.

“As fun as it would be to stay, I have more urgent matters to attend to. If you can keep up with me, who’s to say the other Autobots can’t?” 

He barely got out of the way of the missile that came at him. He hit the ground hard, but didn’t give himself a moment to be grateful he was still alive. The smoke didn’t need to clear for him to know Starscream was gone.

With grit denta, he picked himself back up and got back in the race. 

There was no sign of the Decepticon with the others. The good news was that they were unharmed. The bad news was that the groundbridge was closing and no one but him had any idea of what happened. 

The bridge flickered. He glanced at Arcee’s hand pulling down on the lever and, with a sigh, ran through the dying bridge.

A moment later, he was gone, and the others remained.

“Where’s Blurr?”

-

When he jumped out the other side, Starscream was wasting time with mockery and not even aware of the blue menace behind him—not until he had launched himself onto his back.

“Ack! Get off!”

He swung from side to side in failing attempts to shake Blurr off, but he wouldn’t yield. He clung onto his wings, tightening his grip for all he was worth as he climbed further up. Soon he sat atop his shoulders, wrestling to keep his place and steering himself clear of Starscream’s claws. He was getting slower, he noticed. 

That was good to know.

Starscream lashed out a hand, closing it around his upper half. Blurr struggled and writhed, twisting to escape and running very low on options. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking during the next part, or if he even was thinking. All he could say was that when he lowered his head down, one of Starscream’s fingers was in range, and… he bit down as hard as he could. 

“You wretched little-!”

Starscream’s hand opened ever so slightly as he yelped and Blurr slipped through, diving for the precious goods secure in his arm. He brushed against the rusted metal and Spark, he was so close, he almost had it! They needed this. The Autobots needed some bit of hope, he wouldn’t let it be ripped away from them.

His face fell when he felt a cold hand wrap around his leg. Starscream must have had some stroke of dumb luck to grab onto him, because the next thing he knew was he was getting snapped backwards toward the trees and crashing through bark. He curled up on the ground, his venting short and erratic as he tried to bring his anxiety down.

He heard Bulkhead shout “Blurr!”, followed by Ratchet bringing attention to Starscream’s theft. The warbling of a groundbridge opening reached him, blasterfire coming soon after, and then there was silence.

Blurr managed to turn his head to the side to spot Optimus standing eerily still, his hands closed into fists. Ratchet looked as though he wanted to do something to help his friend, but his aid was needed elsewhere. Knowing Optimus wanted the same, he jogged over to the banged up racer.

“We’ll get them back,” Bulkhead brought himself to say. 

Optimus didn’t acknowledge him. He couldn’t lose his temper. Not here, not when one of his team members could be injured.

“By the Allspark,” Ratchet gasped. Both heads turned to look.

Blurr rolled flat on his back, unfurling to reveal a recovered Omega Key wrapped in his arms. “Starscream was… faster than anticipated… but there’s still some good news,” he vented out, exhausted. Just how fast had he been going to keep up with him? It sapped more energy than he thought.

Upon laying optics on the sight, Optimus felt a weight lift from him. He knelt down, a hand moving underneath Blurr to prop him up. “You have done well, Blurr.”

Blurr smiled in spite of his exhaustion, looking down at the Omega Key he held. Right as Starscream had grabbed him, he had grabbed onto the key. 

“Let me examine you,” Ratchet said. It was a good thing he already had the medical kit on hand. There were some dents and scratches, and when he was asked he reported some soreness, but thankfully nothing too major. No sparking, no energon leakage. He would live. The one thing he wanted more than anything was to shut his optics and rest. As they helped him up and they all stepped through that groundbridge, the smiles he got from the others was enough to kickstart that recharge.

[slashv1xen]

Hiii! I have an idea in my mind, but you don't have to write about it!!!

Maybe Otis brings home a person he liked (not a victim, they met somewhere else) and waiting for them to realise about his deeds and THEN he can kill them because of their reaction. But the person is like "Oh, cool" and continues talking to Firefly family carelessly. What would be his reaction?

ooh this one got me thinking 💭

i reckon otis would be stunned, and have a blank expression on his face as he thinks why this person isn’t scared senseless. ‘what? how they ain’t scared?’

but if otis is interested in u he would probably have a smirk on his face and probably keep u around (ur also now baby’s best friend, good job!), but if not he’ll most likely kill u out of spite.

the two of u probably met in either a bar (this man is a heavy drinker), captain spaulding’s gas station or at red hot pussy liquor (he’s incredibly sleazy what can i say).

one shot 💗

“okay, enough!” you announced as you put the shot glass down, gasping from the taste of the strong vodka. the man beside you, who introduced himself as otis just laughed and took a swig straight from the bottle (much to the bartenders protests).

“what’s wrong honey, i thought you could handle this, hm?” he teased, chuckling at your annoyed expression. “not more than 8 fuckin’ shots!” you snap, in disbelief as he looked at you, amused.

“how about you come home with me, i ain’t so drunk i can’t give you a ride liar and my mama can fix ya somethin’ real nice. least i can do, especially after you paying.” you rolled your eyes at his offer, but a small smile on your face was present.

“fine, you’re right. least you can do after giving me damn alcohol poisoning,” you say, to which otis laughs and says that you’re being dramatic.

after 20 minutes otis pulls up into what looked like an abandoned farm house. if you didn’t know you’d think the house was derelict. the door happened to be unlocked, to which otis let out a grumble and pushed it open, the two of you stepping inside.

the house was a mess, to say the least. you stepped over the empty glass bottle and year-old newspapers and sat on the couch, smoothing over your pants. otis said that he’ll be back in a second, and for you to just “hang tight cutie pie”, smiling as you laughed.

after what seemed like a few minutes two women came down the stairs. a younger one, about your age, and an older one who looked about 55. they both sat down next to you and introduced themselves as “mama firefly but just call me mama” and “baby”.

you were chatting with baby about movies while mama was making you a “special meal”, when otis pulled you aside, a devilish grin on his face.

“well, i figured now would be a good time to tell you…” he started, purposely being slow to create tension (to be an asshole)

“yeah? what did you need?” you reply, looking back at baby who waved to you, and you waved back. otis sighed, that grin still present.

“i tell this to everyone that comes here, and well, none of ‘em have made it out…” you were confused, why was this man talking in riddles? “i’m gonna kill you.” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath on the nape of your neck.

“shit, really?” you ask, no emotion in your voice. he nods, waiting for your reaction. “okay, just make it quick then.” you shrugged and walked back to the couch with baby, chatting again as if nothing happened.

otis however, was dumbfounded. he just said he would kill you, and you didn’t care? how? he was so confused, he can’t even think straight. hell, he can’t even think at all. the smirk slowly returned to his face as he thought of his next move.

‘maybe we could have a future together…’

hi hi, this was so much fun to write! in my eyes, this is so in character and i can totally imagine something like this happening in one of the movies. please never shy away from requests, i’m happy to do anything (that is SFW ofc). have a good day and i hope you enjoyed!

[bingoboingobongo]

cod characters alphabet: comfort

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, Valeria Garza

Warnings: none

Prompt: Comfort - How would do they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack?

A/N: literally devastated that i have to go back to school tmmrw

simon “ghost” riley:

okay so the thing about ghost is that he absolutely sucks at dealing with panic attacks

doesn’t matter if their his or yours, he is about as helpful as a wheelbarrow without wheels

he never really learned how to get over them besides just waiting them out which he knows isn’t the most helpful advice to give someone

also he’s not really used to or comfortably with huge displays of emotion like panic attacks and so he definitely gets pretty awkward around you when you’re distressed

he’ll probably try to pat your back or give you a hug to make you feel better but again it’s definitely very awkward

he’s sort of a pragmatist and so his first instinct will be to try and fix the problem, but since he doesn’t exactly know how to do that he’ll often do things outside of your panic attack

by that i mean he’ll start tidying your room or doing some of your chores that way you don’t have stuff to worry about when you’re done crying

if you’re worried about something specific he’ll also try and get that dealt with pretty quickly as well

that being said if you’re just kinda sad for whatever reason he’s a little better in that department

he likes to make you something to eat and then turn on one of your favorite shows/movies while you cuddle on the couch

he probably won’t try to talk to you about it unless you bring it up first but he’s definitely gonna up the affection so that you know you’re loved

john “soap” mactavish:

okay if i’ve said it once i’ve said it a million times

but soap solves problems through humor and jokes

honestly i wouldn’t be surprised if it stems from him being sort of uncomfortable around extreme displays of vulnerability or emotion like ghost

but instead of distancing himself, soap tries to stay by your side when you’re going through it

i mentioned this in a previous headcanon, but soap will definitely keep telling you jokes until you’re able to at least smile or give him a light laugh

he’s definitely a firm believer that laughter is the best medicine, and so he’ll do anything to try and distract you from your problems with a good (or bad) joke that makes you laugh

i think he also gets more physically affectionate when he can tell you’re having a tough time because he feels like it’s an easier way for him to show you how much he loves you

but he’ll also compliment you and verbally remind you of his love for you too

when you’re having a bad day, soap will probably try to take your mind off of it with a fun time out

he’ll spend the entire date cracking jokes and trying to get you to double over with laughter

that being said, if you’re not feeling like going out he’s more than capable of making sure you have a great time staying in

kyle “gaz” garrick:

hm so believe it or not i think gaz is actually pretty good at comforting you when you have a panic attack

he’ll definitely be there by your side, rubbing your back, and helping you breathe through it

he’ll probably ask you to count or do something repetitive with him to get your mind off of your troubles

he knows all the right things to say to make you feel better and will definitely talk you through it to make it pass by quicker

he’ll also get you some water if you need it or get you to a chair/private place

when you’re ready, he’ll ask you to explain what’s stressing you out, and when you’re all sorted he’ll go and try to deal with your problem

gaz is also good when you’re just generally feeling sad

communication is important to him and so he’ll encourage you to talk to him and tell him what’s wrong

and once he knows what’s wrong he’ll help you work through it the best you can so that you feel better

he’ll also run you a bath or shower and try to pamper you so that you feel better

when you’re feeling sad, he really just takes more care of you so that you know you’re loved

john price:

okay so i feel like just based on his age, price probably wouldn’t be the best around emotions, but given the fact that he’s a captain in the military i think it cancels out

i mean, that being said, most times people in the military aren’t exactly having panic attacks very frequently but he still knows what to do in case you do have one

like gaz he’s very methodical and will essentially go through like the cleveland clinic guide to helping panic attacks step by step 

(also that could be a big fat lie idk if cleveland clinic has a guide to helping panic attacks)

first thing he does is make sure you’re actually having a panic attack and not something more severe like a heart attack or something

next thing he does (especially if this is the first time you’re having a panic attack around him) is try and gather some information

is this your first time ever having a panic attack? if not, then what do you do to help it usually? what can he do to help you? you get the gist

he’ll reassure/comfort you verbally and try and gently coax you through it

he’ll also help you to ground yourself/get you a water or medication or anything you might need

when you’re just feeling down though, price finds that the best way to help is by giving you cuddles

he’ll pull you into bed or onto the couch and just hold you tight against him

if you wanna talk he’ll listen, but if not than he’ll fill the silence with stuff about his day or his life

alejandro vargas:

hmm so alejandro may not follow the textbook word for word when it comes to helping you with panic attacks but he does a pretty good job on his own

his first instinct is usually to wrap his arms around you and hug you

he feels like it just helps ground you, plus it lets you know that he’s there for you, plus you usually respond well to it so he doesn’t see a problem with it

he’ll whisper quietly into your hair and rub circles onto your back to try and get you to relax

usually he’s just praising you or saying sweet nothings to help you feel better

“i’m right here, don’t worry mi vida” or “you can get through this, i’m so proud of you corazon”

he’ll ask you what you need and depending on what you say he’ll go and get that/do that for you

once it’s all over he’ll draw you a warm bath and really give you a nice little spa day to help you unwind

he also does this whenever you’re just feeling bad or down in general

although he does go above and beyond if it’s a particularly bad day to make you feel extra loved

get ready though because he literally will not let you do anything yourself for that day/week

he’s also by your side to make sure you have everything you could ever need or want

rodolfo “rudy” parra:

oh god bless rudy’s poor little soul if he ever comes across you having a panic attack

i feel like he’s definitely very empathetic and so seeing you distressed makes him distressed and really just hurts his heart

that being said, be glad he has his military training because if not he’d probably be crying by your side too

thankfully, he knows how to be calm in emergencies like this so after he gives himself a few seconds to panic and then gather his thoughts, he’s rushing to your side to be of aid

like alejandro, his kneejerk reaction is to give you a big ole hug but he’s worried that that might be too overwhelming so he starts off by rubbing your back/holding your hands

that being said if you tell him that you want a hug get ready to be squeezed like never before because once he has a hold on you he’s not letting you go until he knows you’re happy

i’ll be honest a lot of words are going to be coming out of his mouth

they all have the same general message of “i love you so much. it’s gonna be okay. we’ll get through this together.” but the coherency of his words is debatable

he’ll be absolutely beside himself trying to do whatever it take to make you feel better

honestly it’s the same rodeo when you’re feeling sad, just this time rudy is a little less panicked since it’s not the worst it can get

he’ll still shower you in kisses and hold you as tight as he can though to make you feel better

valeria garza:

alright so valeria may normally be all harsh edges and tough when it comes to her day job, but if it’s you and your distressed valeria’s a completely different person

she definitely becomes more nurturing and softer so she can comfort you better

she’ll hold you in her arms and help you relax if you’re going through something bad like a panic attack

she’s very good at grounding you, whether that be through helping you breathe, or doing the 5-4-3-2-1 method or something else along those lines

she’ll whisper lots of affirmations to you, telling how proud she is of you, telling you how amazing you are, etc.

when you’re ready, she’ll ask you about the cause and if there’s anything she can do to help

and if there’s even like the faintest hint of something she could maybe do, then trust that she is doing it

because let’s be real, you mean the world to her and she would do anything to make you feel better

when you’re sad, she always gets you takeout from your favorite restaurant and eats it with you while you guys cuddle and watch a movie or tv show

afterwards, she’ll take you out shopping or buy you a nice gift to make you feel better

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 15 - Painful RE:bake | Episode 8 - An Easy-to-Understand Taste

*Classroom door slides open*

Keiku: Mornin’.

Female Classmate A: It’s not even remotely that early.

Female Classmate B: It’s lunchtime.

Female Classmate A: Where’d you stay yesterday?

Keiku: His house.

Classmate A: My place.

Classmate B: So why’d you come here by yourself and leave Keiku behind?

Classmate A: I told you I at least woke him up.

Female Classmate B: Why don’t you come to my house today~? My parents won’t say anything.

Keiku: Women are a pain in the ass.

Female Classmate B: You’re sooo mean! 

Classmate B: Well, staying at a girl’s house is a bad idea for a lot of reasons.

Keiku: …

Classmate A: Where are you headed?

Keiku: School store. I want somethin’ sweet.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kureha: …Hmm …The pudding was hard to pass up, but… I was in the mood for a donut today …Though, it’s the last of either of them, so…

Girl A: Ah, Kureha-kun’s troubled.

Girl B: He has been for a while now.

Girl A: He’s so cute~. He’s such a blorbo.

Keiku: (...Blorbo, huh?)

*Keiku takes something from Kureha*

Keiku: --.

Kureha: Huh?

*Keiku walks away*

Store Clerk: Pudding and a donut, that’ll be 300 yen. Thank you.

Kureha: Wait, you-- I was just about to make my decision. I can’t believe you just took both of them…

Keiku: I’ll take the pudding.

Kureha: Huh?

Keiku: …Your hair reminds me of cheesecake.

Kureha: Hold on, wait, I need to--.

Keiku: ‘S’on me.

*Keiku walks away*

Kureha: --Thank you!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Keiku: (Pudding and donuts have the same sweetness anyway.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Female Classmate A: …If I’m being honest, Keiku-kun is cool but kinda scary.

Classmate B: He must be psycho or something ‘cause you can never tell what he’s thinking.

Female Classmate A: Exactly.

Female Classmate B: And is that thing on his face like a burn or something? Or is it from an accident? Like a scar from a fight or something?

Classmate A: Nah, I think he was just born with it.

Female Classmate B: Really?

Female Classmate A: Can’t you just like get that kinda thing fixed?

Classmate A: He doesn’t want to.

Classmate B: You sure know a lot. Ask him more questions, Master of Strange Creatures.

Classmate A: Bet. I’ll tame him with something sweet.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Keiku: …

Keiku: (...It’s still hard to tell what this is except that it hurts and it’s sweet, just like always.)

Keiku: (Whatever, I could just go into the classroom and beat the hell outta those guys.)

Keiku: (If I hit ‘em as hard as I could, my hands would get all tingly and they’d probably be terrified. Yeah, now that’s easy to understand.)

Keiku: (But that guy’s house is one of the places I sleep. I’ll just go for somethin’ sweet today, not somethin’ painful.)

Keiku: …

Keiku: …Now I want cheesecake.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Camera clicks*

Towa: How was that?

Ibuki: God, none of these are useable! Again.

Towa: Seriously~? Even this one?

Ibuki: Hurry.

Towa: But they all look the same to me…

*Camera clicks*

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Towa: How’s this?

Ibuki: …Hm, well, whatever.

Towa: Haaah…

Ibuki: The cheesecake here is really good. Hurry up and eat it.

Towa: After taking all those videos and pics, I’m finally allowed to eat… Hm?

Towa: Huh, this is really good!

Ibuki: I know, right?

Towa: This is the best cheesecake I’ve ever had! The cheese is so rich yet refreshing, what the heck?

Towa: I’m gonna get some to-go for my aunt… Tokyo’s amazing…

Ibuki: Anyway, how are things going with finding the other two troupe members?

Towa: I want one of them to be someone who can do action.

Ibuki: Hmm?

Towa: Like MANKAI Company’s Autumn Troupe members!

Ibuki: Alright, that’s enough of your ManPani brainrot. Well, I guess I do hope we get a good cast of characters.

Ibuki: I’m sure if we put something on TikTak saying we’re recruiting members we’d find people in no time, but what do you think?

Towa: Hmm… I think it’s important to have good chemistry with your troupemates, since you’re gonna be friends with them for a long time and have to talk about a lotta things with them.

Towa: That’s why I still wanna scout people out with my own eyes.

Ibuki: Gotcha, I’ll leave it to you then.

Towa: Still, I can’t just sit back and relax too much…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Store Clerk A: If you’re in line, please come to this register.

Store Clerk A: This cake set will be 970 yen. How would you like to pay?

Towa: I’ll use ONIGIRI Pay--.

Store Clerk B: Are you sure about the 20 pieces of cheesecake?

Keiku: I’m sure.

Store Clerk B: That’ll be 8400 yen. I’ll go get those for you.

Towa: --.

Keiku: …What?

Towa: Ah, I’m sorry--.

Store Clerk B: Thank you so much.

*Keiku walks away*

Towa: …

Ibuki: Whatcha looking at?

Towa: For some reason… That guy caught my eye.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Keiku: Mhm… Awphm…

Passerby A: Huh, was he eating cheesecake just now?

Passerby B: I’ve never seen someone walk while eating cheesecake before.

Juza: …

Keiku: ? 

Keiku: I don’t really have time for a fight right now, but--.

Juza: That cheesecake… Where’d ya get it?

Keiku: Hah? At that café over there.

Juza: …”Fromage Maison”. I knew it. The last time I got a present it was from that store.

Juza: Thanks. Ya were a real help.

Keiku: …--.

Keiku: What’s your name?

Juza: Juza Hyodo.

Keiku: …Guess not. Awmph…

Juza: …Looks good enough to eat.

Keiku: Huh?

Keiku: (Did he say it looked good…? My face…?)

Keiku: …

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[miyuhpapayuh]

𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝.

"You're just gonna stare at me, huh?"

For the past five minutes, Anthony has been sitting across from Simone, watching her slowly sip on her second margarita, her fiery gaze set and stuck on him.

It had been a long–almost three months since she'd been able to look him in his face, and if possible, he was even more handsome.

"I'm mad at you." She finally speaks, cutting her eyes at him, before looking towards Jasmine, in her silk, red dress with a daring slit up the thigh, dancing with her husband.

"I wanted to surprise you."

"You succeeded, but I'm still mad."

"Nah, you're just stubborn. I know you're happy to see me, princess." He confidently states.

"I never said I wasn't."

"Can you act like it, then?" He rounds the table to sit beside her, pulling her into his side, smirking as she melts into him.

"I didn't get in a helicopter and fly fifteen hours ahead of my schedule, just to watch you pout."

“What did you just say?” She asks, turning her head to look up at him.

“You heard me. I rearranged my whole day to be here. Even if it's just the reception, cause I knew how important this was to you. So… get that frown off your face.”

Instantly fixing her pout, it’s replaced by shock. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” He mocks, leaning for a kiss that she eagerly meets him halfway for.

“You said you couldn’t make it! I thought that was finite.” She softly defends.

“You're right, but you know I always pull through for you, too.” He says, smiling down at her.

“I missed you,” she finally says, before sighing dramatically.

“God, that hurt you, didn't it?” He asks, smirking at the look on her face.

“It really did!” She obnoxiously nods, making him laugh.

“I missed you too, with your spoiled ass.”

“All your fault and none of mine,” she laughs, grabbing her glass from the table and taking the last couple sips of the strong drink.

“You smell good,” he plants his face right into her neck, inhaling her scent.

“Thank you— stop!” She giggles, pushing him away as he starts to nibble on the area. He beams back, behaving this time.

“You smell good too, my favorite cologne.” She smiles, leaning back into him.

“I always keep a bottle near for that reason,” he notes, just as Simone's sister dances over to where they're sitting.

“Hey, lovebirds!”

“Hey, April! Nice to see you again.” He greets, as they slap hands like old friends.

“Always fun runnin’ into you, Ant!” She slurs.

“How many drinks have you had, dude?” Simone asks, staring at the glass of brandy in her hand.

“Well, including this one,” she holds the glass up, “three. I might have one more.”

“Be careful, April.”

“Girl, lighten up a little. I'm a big girl, I'm good.” She smiles, patting Anthony's shoulder. “I'm glad you're back. Take care of my girl, here.”

“Always.” He smiles back, while she makes her way back to the dance floor.

He turns to his pouty date, softly chuckling. “She seems to be enjoying herself.”

“Yeah, ‘cause she left the ball and chain at home.” She replies.

“Hm. Come dance with me.” He says, pulling her up and out of her funk with his “elite” dance moves. Her giggles are futile as he hits his famous robot for her.

“So stupid,” she says through her laughing fit, swooning as he pulls closed the space between them, grasping her left hand into his right.

Her cheeks grow a deep crimson as a couple of Jada's cousins give their whistles of approval.

“That means they like me, right?”

“Yeah, they like you,” she pecks his lips, “who wouldn't?”

“You act like you don't sometimes, but I know the real.”

“You get on my nerves. Multiple things can be true, I suppose.” She shrugs.

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Mmhm.”

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

Driving down to the beach at two in the morning, was definitely not in her original plans. But, when you've got a beautiful man whispering in your ear, you'd be persuaded into just about anything.

"How was the wedding?" Idris asks, resting his right hand on her knee, drawing small circles into her skin.

"It was beautiful. I cried a lot, like usual. Her dress. Her hair. The flowers. The church!, their union and those vows— wow. One of my favorite weddings, by far." Simone gushes.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You definitely drank enough to." He teases.

"Free bar! Of course, I'm taking advantage. Don't do that, when you knocked back those three glasses of Brandy." She points her finger at him, as he pulls into a parking spot, just minutes away from their destination.

"I had to catch up with you, babygirl." He cuts the car off and hops out, heads over to her side to open her door for her and locks the car up.

Their index fingers naturally intertwine as they start their trek towards the sand. The midnight blue sky gives the scenery before them a calm feeling.

Stopping for a moment, Simone slips her sandals off and hooks them on her fingers, sighing as the gritty sand finds a home between her toes.

"I haven't been to the beach in the longest time." She mumbles as they get closer to the water.

"I'll make sure you see it more often," he responds without so much as a second thought. She shakes her head fondly, absentmindedly clutching his hand tighter.

A breeze sends a slight shiver through her, and he disconnects their hands long enough to shrug out of his suit jacket and sling it over her shoulders.

"Thank you," she says. Her tone takes on a genuine warmth that doesn't mirror the acidity from earlier.

For a moment they simply stroll in a comfortable silence, nature's symphony being the only thing heard.

"Ya know, Allura's fourth anniversary is around the corner. I could use a date." She speaks up as she swings their arms between them.

"What?" He asks with fake shock, "around all those pesky cameras that I'm sure are gonna be there all night?"

"I mean I could ask my other options to join me if you're not down."

"Other options?” He asks with a chuckle. “Not after the speech you gave me the other night!”

She immediately cackles, squeezing his hand. “I'm only kidding!”

“Oh, I know it.” He nods, matter-of-factly, sending her eyes rolling. “And, I'd love to accompany you, princess.”

She will never grow tired of hearing that name.

"You basically own the place now, don't you?" He continues.

"Absolutely not! That's all Rose's baby."

"I think she'd disagree. You're the only one who's been there since its inception. You're just as responsible for it being as big as it is. I see just how much you do to keep it running so smoothly."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, sir." Her tone is light, but she was grateful the darkness of the night cloaked the ever present rosiness of her cheeks.

Slinking back up to her place after their lovely night, it was well into the wee hours of the morning.

They stop in front of her front door where she turns to face him, looking up into his eyes.

"Thank you for showing up for me tonight. You made an already fantastic night...perfect." She had to remember to lay off the alcohol whenever he was involved. Soon enough she'd be laying all her cards on the table, and that was a severe no-no in her book.

"Anytime at all." He moves a loose tendril of hair behind her ear, trailing his hand down the side of her neck, leaving goosebumps in his wake. "Can I keep you warm tonight?"

The answer is already in her starry eyes, but she unlocks the door and pulls him inside by his belt buckle, sealing the deal.

Once the door closed, his lips and hands were on her, carefully unzipping her dress before helping her step out and tossing it, along with her thong, onto her side chair. She pushes his suit jacket and shirt away, tossing it onto the same chair.

As he carries her down the hall, her hand pats the wall, flipping the light on so she could see him and make sure this moment was actually happening.

“How thoughtful of you,” she snorts once she pulls away from their liplock for a breath, her body being sat on her kitchen counter, her legs wrapping around him.

“I do what I can,” he cheekily responds, recapturing her lips, taking her breath away again.

His hot mouth trails down her neck, locating her hot spot with ease, making her moan and move her hands from his shoulders to his belt buckle.

Assisting in pushing the rest of his clothes away, he sank into her and revels in the deep gasp that left her. Her hands find his shoulders.

“Anthony…” she breathlessly moans, as he wastes no time pounding into her. Her ankles uncross and roll from the chills that creep up her spine.

“Missed you, baby.. fuck, you feel so good.” He moans, bending down to kiss her lips, then her neck, still mumbling his praises to her.

She leans back onto the counter, throbbing all over as his open-mouthed kisses land on her sensitive breasts, making her body fall all the way onto the surface.

“Oh my god, please,” she moans, biting her lip and shutting her eyes tight at the overload of him.

Her hands didn't know where to land as his thrusts continued to jack up her breathing, sending her higher up  than the alcohol ever could.

“I'm gonna, fuck!— cum,” she moans, squeezing her thighs against his waist, trying her best to ride that first wave of pleasure as it coursed through her whole body.

“That's it, princess. Gimme that good shit— gah damn.” He praises, kissing all over her skin.

Slowing down to give her a moment of reprieve, his slow grind still sends a shiver down her spine but she's slowly coming back down to earth, even laughing a little to herself.

“Fuck, what do you do to me?” She asks, almost whining into his mouth as he answers with another steamy kiss, his hands cuffing underneath her legs to press them back against the surface.

“Stop,” she whines, her shoulder inching up to block his slippery kisses from the other side of her neck, due to her being stupid ticklish.

Peppering kisses around the area and making her body bend upward, he found access to her spot anyway, her sweet laughter floating through the air.

“A–Anthony! That fucking tickles,” she squeals, clawing at his arms and back as he goes back to pumping into her.

Her eyes slid back into their hiding spot as he brushed against her spot, that pretty pout staining her features as she got ready for another release.

“Don't stop, baby!”

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇ෆ˟̑

The next morning, they are lazily wrapped up in each other. The sun shines through the cream colored organza curtains, casting them in a golden glow.

The calm of the moment is interrupted by a ringing phone.

"Business calls, huh?" She asks softly, her tone neutral, “damn, just when I was starting to like you, old man." She draws abstract patterns on his exposed chest.

He allows the phone to ring until it stops. "Hmm. Whatever they need from me, they can get from Carmichael. Hell, he probably knows more than I do."

She rises from her position on his chest, a lift in her freshly waxed brow. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack. I missed you." There's a teasing glint in his eyes that makes her heart flutter.

"I can see why you would." She stretches her limbs with a yawn. "I'm hungry. Let's go eat."

"Yes ma'am."

Forty five minutes later, and they're sitting across from each other in a French café enjoying delicious pastries and each other's company.

"I need a favor," she changes the gears of their conversation.

"Name it."

"My assistant, Logan. She's one of the most dedicated, ambitious people I know. She's got big dreams, and I think she could use a...friend. A generous, well-established handsome friend who's more than willing to help her realize them. And preferably one with a very large penis." She says the last part without blinking.

Anthony on the other hand, almost chokes on his hazelnut latte.

"Well. I can't make any promises about that last part, but I do think I have the perfect candidate. I'll talk to him."

"You're the best."

"Oh, I know."

To that, she dips her fingertips in her glass of ice water and flicks it at him.

After breakfast, they decide on a lazy day, wanting to languish in being in each other's presence for as long as they could.

Anthony has his head in her lap as some mindless show plays on her TV. She strokes the scruff of his beard, neither one of them truly paying attention.

A phone interrupts their nothingness for the second time, only it's April ringing this time.

"What's up, April?"

"Well hello sister. Where's that man at?"

"Right here," she puts the phone on speaker and puts it near his head, "Say hello."

"Heeeeyyyy, boyfriend! You keeping my sister's back cracked?"

"Girl, have you lost your mind?"

"You know it!"

Anthony and Simone respond at once, and she immediately takes her off speaker.

"I knew it. I could tell from that glow, last night. That wasn't just Fenty."

"I'm not about to play with you!" She laughs. "What do you want?"

"It's my last day before I go home, and I wanna hang out with my sister. Can we do that?"

She weighs her choices. All things considered, she does miss her sister dearly, but she won't entertain a single word about that husband of hers.

"Sure. What time did you have in mind?"

"Give me like...two hours then I'll come get you. Cool?"

She checks the time from his phone.

"That's fine. I'll see you then."

"Great. I love you, Simone."

While that's not news, it throws her for a bit of a loop to hear it at such a seemingly random time.

"I love you too, April." They end the call and she sets her phone back down.

"Spending some time with your sister?"

"Yeah."

"You don't seem too excited."

"No, I'd love to see her. We just...haven't seen eye to eye in a long time."

"From what you tell me it seems like you still care."

"Of course I do. We've been through almost everything together. I just don't understand these trash ass choices she makes sometimes."

"The direction she decides to steer her life isn't always for you to have to understand, love. Your only job as her sister is to love her through the changes. She's gonna always need that. But I understand how hard it can be to see someone you care about seemingly self-destruct."

"I hate your sound advice," she says, ending on a chuckle.

"I'm a wise man. I know a few things."

"I'll give you that," she runs her hand through her hair, "We got a couple hours...how about you show me what else you know?"

Simone washes the sinful activities from her skin before she's to meet with her sister.

Just as she's putting her outfit of choice on, distressed denim & an olive hi-cut bodysuit, there's a knock at the door. Anthony volunteers to get it, and she hopes her sister can keep the embarrassing remarks to a zero while she's putting the finishing touches on her hair.

They greet each other with one of the warmest embraces they've shared in their adulthood.

Anthony makes a promise to meet back up with her later that he seals with a steamy kiss.

"Okay you two, that's enough." April playfully pushes their heads apart.

They bid her handsome man farewell for now, and then they're off to their favorite soul food place.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇ෆ˟̑

Once they're seated and waiting on their drinks, they begin reminiscing about their younger "misguided" years.

"And, that bitch sees me and walks the other way to this day!" They break out into laughter.

"Her bony ass knew better than to try it, too. Speaking of, do you remember Resha?" Simone asks, sipping on her water.

"The one you caught fucking on Devante, Resha??"

"The very one. You know people are DMing me screenshots of this hoe still throwing shots? Girl, it's been years! That nigga can remain your headache."

"She only doing that because she'll never forget that tag team beatdown we gave her and that frog faced bitch of a homegirl."

"For as long as she lives!" They smack hands, falling into another round of laughter.

"Why does it feel like it's been so long since we laughed like that? That's all we used to do." Her posture turns more dejected as she slouches in her seat.

And here it is. The point of their meeting that Simone was dreading.

"We did. We just grew into women with our own lives to tend to."

"I still miss the young us. All the time."

"So do I," Simone replies quietly.

"I know Will plays a part in it."

"Don't even bring him up, Iris." She wants to nip it in the bud before her mood sours.

"I know that's it, though, Imani."

"He's your husband. It is what it is." Her passive tone betrays her feelings.

"Look, I know he can be…”

"Complete and utter garbage."

"Simone."

She shrugs. "I only call it like I see it."

"Okay. He can be abrasive, but he goes through a lot of stress, and I owe it to him to be-"

"You don't owe him shit, April!" She doesn't like where her sister's statement was heading. "He owes it to you to be a better husband. Period."

"You don't get it."

"Then help me get it. Help me understand why me and mama have to watch you be treated so miserably by that no good bastard every time we see you."

April looks away feeling her eyes start to burn with unshed tears, cracking her knuckles, a nervous tick she never broke out of. Simone softens feeling the sadness emanate from her sister in waves. She reaches across the table and grabs one of her hands. "Talk to me. Please."

"It was all my fault," she speaks quietly.

She squints, at a loss for what she could be talking about. "What was?"

"I thought I was okay. I thought I could still work. My doctor told me everything was okay. I didn't listen to my body, and now she's gone." Her voice breaks at the end. The emotions that April had been holding in finally spilled from her eyes and into her lap.

Simone's heart breaks for her sister, but above that she feels...anger. Anger that her sister's husband would allow her to carry the guilt of a faultless miscarriage for a second, much less two years.

She immediately considers asking Anthony if he had friends in high places who didn't mind getting their hands dirty.

But for now, she moves to her sister's side of the booth and wraps both of her arms around her narrow shoulders making sure she knows the loss of her child was never her fault, uncaring about whatever prying eyes may be on the pair.

"We probably look crazy," April says, laughing softly.

"I don't give a hot damn. You're the only thing that matters to me right now." She smooths her hand over her hair. "You know I wanna kick his ass, right?"

"Don't you always?" She says with a light tone.

"He deserves it. What he doesn't deserve is you as his wife."

"I know how you guys feel about him, but I don't know how to walk away from my marriage just like that." She snaps for emphasis.

"You put one foot in front of the other. But seriously, you have to put what's best for you first at some point because that man obviously never will."

April sighed to herself. "You're right."

"I'm sorry. I'm what now?"

"Don't go fucking up the moment, Imani," she says with an eye roll, making them both crack up in the booth.

Their food is cold as ice by the time they get to it, so they decide to take it to-go, opting for some well-deserved retail therapy.

The sisters don't decide to part ways until well after the sun has left the sky, promising it won't be months before they see each other again.

She ends her night with a FaceTime call to one of her favorite faces.

“Hey, big head.” She greets him cheerfully when he pops up on her screen.

"One of these days I'm truly going to get offended that you keep coming for my head." His words go through one ear and out the other as she watches his shirtless form move around his bedroom.

"Mhmm."

He stops to look into the camera and see where her seemingly diverted attention lies, when he realizes it's still on him, just not on his words.

"Are you checking me out, Imani?"

"And if I am?" She replies smartly with a quirk in her brow.

"Forever the smart mouth. I've been away for entirely too long."

"What are you gonna do to me, huh?"

"Keep it coming, princess. You'll see. How was your day with your sister?" He stops moving about to give her his full attention.

"I was pleasantly surprised by how...well, pleasant it was. Without telling her business, I learned a lot. I kept in mind what you told me earlier...it helped."

"Truly glad to hear that, love. I know how much you love your sister."

"I hope I got through to her this time."

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇ෆ˟̑

The next day, Simone's up bright and early for work seeing as Allura's big night is less than three weeks away, and she has a million last minute errands to tend with.

"Morning, boss lady," Logan says as she lets herself in with the breakfast Simone neglected to pick up.

"Morning, sunshine. What's on my to-do list for today?"

"Whole lotta nothing. A couple of new investors are scheduled to swing by around three. Just be prepared for a lot of schmoozing and ass kissing to secure their funds. I emailed you files on them, so you can look extra good."

"The baddest is what you are." She chuckles and takes a sip of her piping hot tea. "What else?"

"Well most importantly, you have a fitting directly after work."

"A fitting?" She gasps in realization. "I finally get to see my dress?"

She'd gotten Logan to agree to tailor make a dress for the special occasion, but the girl had been keeping a tight lip about what it actually looks like.

"Yes ma'am."

"I can't wait because I already know it's fire." She claps excitedly.

"I really do hope you like it, cause it's taken up all of my free time." She jokes.

"I apologize, dear. I'll make it up to you."

"Oh, no," Logan laughs. "I'm just playing around."

"Nonsense, babe. I've already got a surprise on the way."

"What kind of surprise, Simone?" She ditches the formalities for a second as she racks her brain of what it could possibly be.

"Don't worry your gorgeously locced head about it. It's all taken care of. I'll let you know when it..arrives." She winks, before heading back to her own office, sighing blissfully as her back rests against the fur of her chair.

Opening her laptop, she pulls up her file titled ‘fits', and pulls out a picture that she'd snapped of her outfit and sends it to her phone. She then uploads it to her Instagram, like she does, every week.

She'd given herself the task to upload a picture of her outfits to her Instagram, to give her followers a glimpse of her sense of style and they loved it!

This week, it was a white, thin strapped corset-style top paired with light wash, flared jeans and squared strapped heels.

She momentarily focuses on the photo in its entirety, before gazing at the tired, pink polish on her nails.

Reaching over to her office phone, she pushes the red button to call Logan.

“Dear, I need a fill-in. Can you schedule an appointment at two, today? I don't wanna be chipped when the investors get here."

"Yes ma'am. I'll call them now."

"Thank you."

A knock sounds at her door, before Jada marches inside with a wide grin on her face, hurriedly closing the door behind her.

"Why are you so cheery, this morning? Are you glowing?" Simone asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know.... I might've had, one of the best dates of my life, last night. I might've actually confessed to being so deeply in love that my chest hurts.... we might've had sex in every part of his house." The grin never leaves her face.

"Awww, Jada! That's so great! I'm so happy for you!" She opens her arms as Jada bends down to receive the hug.

"Thanks! It was so perfect," she sits on the edge of the desk. "He took me to this restaurant, where the centerpiece is a candle and you get to choose the scent— I chose sandalwood, of course— and the food was amazing! We took a stroll down the boardwalk and that's when I just couldn't hold back how I was feeling, anymore. I literally told him everything. If he were anybody else, I might've died, but he's just as in love as I am!..." Simone's eyes gleam as she listens to her best friend gush about things they've only dreamt of.

"I really am happy for you, boo. You deserve it."

"So do you, girl. I saw the way you and ol’ lanky were looking at each other, the other night." Simone rolls her eyes as her heart skips a beat, at the mention of him.

"Jada, he's only around for certain things. A relationship is not one of those things." She bats her lashes.

"You do know that I know you, right?” Jada shakes her head. "You don't have to admit to it, but I see it."

"You see what?"

Jada just laughs and stands up, smoothing her hands over her skirt. "I see right through this little act, you got going on."

"An act?"

"Simone, I'm not doing this with you. You play too many games."

"Ugh, anyway! I'm going to get my nails done at two, you wanna come or you got plans?" Simone asks, picking at her grown out cuticle.

"Yeah, I'll come with you. I need a color change, myself." Jada stares at her nails, before looking back in Simone's direction. "You hear about the investors that are coming?"

"Yes. I'm glad you said that, cause I need to pull up these files."

Jada rounds the table and hovers over Simone's left shoulder, watching her type away on her keyboard and pull up the 'need-to-know’— as Logan put it.

"Alright... two men and a woman—typical," she scoffs.

"I hope she's the leader of the pact." Jada adds.

"It's two thousand and twenty-three. She better be!" Simone exclaims, making Jada chuckle.

"Okay, so we've got John," Simone starts.

"He looks like a white supremacist." Jada frowns.

"Oh, boy!” Simone laughs, "he's been in the investment industry for about... twenty-five years, Jesus!"

"Damn, he's been in business as long as you've been alive, girl." Jada's eyes widened.

"He's gonna be a problem," she scrolls down as she reads his track list— a bunch of boring nonsense about how his entitlement has gotten him where he is today, on top of him being white.

"Moving on, we have his twin brother, Jack. And, then we have Bianca."

"Oooh! She's gorgeous,” they stare at the screen in awe of the umber-hued woman, with her rich, tight coils and impeccable sense of style.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven." Jada mumbles.

"You and me, both."

"Wow, it says that she's been with the company for fifteen years, she's actually invested in Allura a couple of times— why am I just now hearing of her?!" She asks out loud.

"You have a short attention span, girl. We've been over this."

"Having a short attention span, and zoning out when the conversation starts becoming mundane, are two different things."

"Whatever you say."

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇ෆ˟̑

Walking back through the double doors, Simone gets pulled to the side by her boss. Her furrowed brow causes some of the tension to lift from Rose's face, being replaced by a small smile.

"What's going on?" Her eyes wander around the lobby, watching everybody scatter about. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine. The investors are here and they wanna speak with you."

"Wha— me?" Simone slides her clammy hands down the sides of her skirt, feeling her heart start to hammer in her chest. "Oh God, what did you tell them?"

"I mentioned that you're the face of the remodeling for this place. They love it and wanna talk— it's just a conversation, love. I promise."

"Okay..." she nods, still feeling a bit nervous.

Stepping off the elevator, Simone takes a right down the main hallway and knocks once, before opening the door to the conference room.

Three pairs of eyes stare back at her as she enters; two obviously enthused and one, well... not so much.

"Good afternoon, Simone," Jack moves from his leaning position against the table and reaches out for her hand, giving it a firm shake. "It's so nice to meet you. I'm Jack."

"It's nice to meet you too, Jack."

"Hi, Simone. I'm John." He politely shakes her hand.

"Nice to meet you." She keeps it short, as the absence of light in her eyes speaks volumes.

"Likewise."

"Ah, the woman of the month, is what you are, darling. I'm Bianca and it's literally an honor to meet you." Pulling her into a hug, Simone returns it and laughs.

"Wow, what an ego booster, you are! I could never amount to someone as prestigious as you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"We could do this all day long, doll. I've done my homework on you and I'm utterly impressed." Everyone takes a seat at the table.

"As I am, with you."

"Let's get started, shall we?" John asks, cutting their conversation short.

"Sure.” Bianca motions with her hand for him to get on with it.

"So, we've heard a lot about you, since your latest spread has hit the stores— with your name on the cover in those, bright pink, letters."

Simone's expression stays stoic, as she listens to him to talk.

"We're very impressed." Jack adds.

"All of you?" Simone's index finger circles in the air, around the trio.

Bianca chuckles, knowing where this is headed.

"Excuse me?" John raises a bushy eyebrow in her direction.

"Oh, come on. You were unimpressed, before I even walked through the door."

That nervous chuckle that white men do when you've caught onto their game, comes out of his mouth.

"Do you think this is professional? I've been in this business for twenty-"

"–five years, I know," she finishes with a swift roll of her neck.

"That's probably longer than you've been alive, young lady." She laughs.

"I'll be twenty-six in July, so you've only got me by a couple months. Besides the point, by the way. Just because you've been in business, doesn't mean you know business."

"Why do you think they keep me around, then? Since, you've got all the answers." He quizzes.

"Because, you're white and a man. It doesn't take a genius to know that." She blinks.

"Wow," Bianca hums, "I like you."

"Bianca." John firmly states, causing the duo to laugh at him.

"You know better than that, John. If you're gonna be an ass, you should learn how to conceal your facial expressions."

"It's true." Jack adds.

"Well, I don't have to stand for this."

"Well, you're not in charge. I am, and I like everything I've seen from this company, so far. You can bitch about it on your own time."

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇ෆ˟̑

"It was incredible, babe. I just went for it, which was very risky, but so worth it!" Simone giddily tells Anthony about her day, as she sits outside of the boutique where her dress is.

"You really aren't afraid of anything, are you?" He asks with a subtle laugh.

"Not in any kind of way. Guess where I am." She smirks.

"Hm... is there food involved?"

"Surprisingly, no. Guess again."

"Let's see. It's four o'clock, which means you just got off work. Are you at your fitting for your dress?"

"I'm so glad that you pay attention when I talk." She teases, before getting out of the car.

"Keep talkin' shit," he hums a laugh. "Are you gonna show me what it looks like?"

"Of course... the night of the gala." He sucks his teeth as she laughs.

"Oh, hush. I don't even know what it looks like, yet. Let it be a surprise!"

"Says the woman who doesn't even like surprises." She feels the eye-roll through the phone.

"Well, this one isn't for me, smartass. It's for you. I gotta go."

"Alright, I'll be seeing your pretty face later." She giggles, making a kissy noise into the phone, before hanging up and walking inside.

"Welcome to Bella's. How can I help you, ma'am?" The green-eyed, dark haired woman greets from behind the counter.

"I'm here to see Logan."

"Can I have your name?"

"Simone Carson." Her dainty fingers tap against the keyboard, before she escorts her to the back of the shop.

"Logan, Simone is here." She knocks on the light blue door, twice.

"I'm coming!" With that, the lady excuses herself with a smile. Simone comfortably shifts her weight as the door swings open.

"Hi, beautiful!," she steps out of the way, for Simone to walk inside. Her eyes naturally fell on the mannequin with a dark garment bag on it.

"Hey, girl! Is that my dress?!" She rushes over to it, while Logan laughs and closes the door.

"It sure is. Go ahead and take a look." Simone sits her phone down on the table and unzips the bag, gasping at the sight.

"It's beautiful! Pink is my second favorite color! And this splash of orange is so pretty! Wow, this is beautiful, seriously." Logan giggles as Simone rounds the dress, gasping even harder at the back; a clear acrylic bangle holds the fabric in place as it's diagonally ldraped across the back.

"You really... really outdid yourself. I cannot wait to try this on!"

"I'm so glad you like it! Let me slide out and let you put it on, so I can take pictures." She excuses herself, leaving Simone to squeal some more, before stripping down and putting the dress on.

"Oh wow.... I. Am. Snatched! Logan, come see!" Walking back into the room, she cups both sides of her own face, staring at Simone in awe.

"This was literally made for you. Oh my gosh, you look stunning!" She grabs her phone from her pocket and starts snapping away at, an always camera ready, Simone.

After their mini photo shoot, Simone pulls her clothes back on and slings the heavy garment back over her shoulder.

"Your 'after work' attire is super cute, by the way." Simone compliments Logan's distressed denim jeans paired with her blue, long-sleeved crop top and custom, baby blue converse.

"Thanks! I try to tone it down when I get here."

In her free time, Logan is a seamstress which was definitely her dream job. She'd been into fashion, since she was well into her teens. She'd landed this job when she turned twenty-one and never looked back.

Her being Simone's assistant was her side job— one she thoroughly enjoyed.

"It's workin' for you, babe." Simone pinches her cheek. "I sent the money to your account."

"You didn't have to pay me. I did this for you as a gift."

“Please, you never work for free. Whether it's a sketch or to look at a piece of fabric. You charge! Whether it's me or Rihanna! You charge!”

“Okay, okay! I'll take your money,” she mumbles in a faux dull manner.

Simone giggles. "You sound like me! We've gotta do better at accepting this cash.”

"Ugh, easy for you to say! I don't have a gorgeous man sending me money!"

"That could change!"

"How?"

"When you've got connections, things happen, babygirl." She winks. Logan crinkles her nose.

"Remember what we talked about. Charge."

"I'll be writing it down on everything now. Thank you."

"And, thank you for making this masterpiece! I'll see you tomorrow."

She kisses her cheek, before heading out.

Logan grows curious, as she pulls her phone out and checks her bank account, almost dropping her phone when she sees the amount that came outta Simone's account.

“Five hundred dollars??” She squeals.

@thegifstories @blackerthings @ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @honestpreference @fujiiapples @nayaesworld @blowmymbackout @harmshake @twistedcharismaaa @abeautifulmindexposed @cecereads209 @starcrossedxwriter @soufcakmistress

[midnight-blue-goth]

Hawaiian Havoc: The Aftermath Episode

Chapter 1: Behind The Scenes [Preview, Full on AO3]

The crew team was coming and going, running out of time. The show is about to start, the Aftermath.

Generally, these types of episodes are easy to handle. On set, no movement. But this one comes with a challenge, brought to you by the sadistic boss, Chris Mclean. And clearly, it involves wild animals.

Not even the fantastic environment that Hawaii offers can make this more relaxing for anyone. “There are only four hours left.” an intern repeats to themselves, holding the leash of a highly dangerous crocodile trying to push him slowly off the shore.

Another group of animals will be joining the peanut gallery, they meant to land in a couple minutes. The episode starts at six and Geoff, sitting on a pink couch, is reading the script while being fixed up by his makeup department.

According to the script, Bridgette should be back from Siberia. Everyone seems to think that this was orchestrated or a complex plan implemented by the producers. How could they let a participant be in the coldest place on Earth without protection? But no, Blaineley really sent her to the most secluded place.

The rest of the contestants are making their entrance as one of the producers guided them through their assigned seats. Everything has intention in this show, nothing is accidental.

Especially to that one girl sitting on the upper side, close enough to hear the production crew conversation. Her new boyfriend will be arriving in a couple minutes.

Gwen hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him; this sudden fixation has increased since her elimination. Thinking about all the things she wanted to say to him while recalling their secret meetings. At least she is glad that those meetings stayed secret.

Her fidgeting fingers couldn’t stop moving as the time of going on air was getting closer. “You seem kinda nervous, girl.” Leshawna started to speak up, breaking her train of thought. “You need to stop shaking so much or we are gonna slip out from this couch.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No need to apologize. You may want to reserve those when that stuck-up spitting-fire dragon enters the scene. Believe me, unfortunately she will let herself be known and heard. Especially heard.”

“Yeah.” Gwen seems rather absent in the conversation. Ignoring the current situation until now made her be able to stay where she is.

Leshawna takes a side look at her, she still has her guard up. “Gonna be honest, Gwen.” She let out a heavy sigh and continued “I do not wish to be in your shoes right now, you will have to sleep with one eye open from now on... maybe two. She definitely has sent you a defamation lawsuit at your house door.” Gwen made no comments.

Leshawna shakes her head “I hope he is worth it; I hope he is. And if he is not, you know what to do. And I’ll send him to the closest hospital around.” Gwen left a chuckle. “I’m not kidding. You may be dumb choosing men, but that doesn’t mean I would let them do whatever they please.”

“Don’t worry, I have got you in my speed dial. You will be the first to know, I promised.” Gwen knows Leshawna meant well, even if she uses her distinctive tough love.

“Good, good.” Now that she has shown more than a frown, Leshawna is feeling better.

Suddenly, a loud metal noise makes them turn around at the same time. It is not usual for the crew member to mess up with the equipment, they know Chris is looking from every angle. He always ends up knowing everything and he will make sure that you pay for it. But as Leshawna and Gwen can see, none of them are.

“You can recognize that green mohawk from a mile away,” Leshawna adds as Gwen’s smile begins to form in her mouth. He appears to be in a heated argument with ‘more likely than not’ innocent assistants’ producers.

Gwen’s eyes shift from him to the floor, where lies a broken television. “So that's where that loud noise came from.”

“Hm, those make-up people must be new. Don’t know how they dared to touch him.” Leshawna let out a laugh. “Why don’t you go there before he rips someone’s head off?” 

She doesn’t need too much convincing; she only needs a reason to not look too needy. Gwen is already looking at the producer to find a way without being noticed. Luckily, they are more worried about the wild animals than anything else. And without any push back, Gwen is sneaking out, making her way to Duncan.

That's it! Check it out the full version on AO3! First fic I've ever published. There is going to be a second chapter, maybe even a third. But I needed to cut it out there or it was going to be too long imo. I hope it was worth the wait!

[aghostbride]

Greetings!! Just posting a fanfic I wrote for my homework :33 (Yes, it is Lennabel) this is also posted on ao3 and wattpad!

——————————–-`♡´-–——————————

A Clandestine Night

In the heart of town, a wealthy man threw a lavish ball, inviting only his closest friends. The event hums with excitement as guests anticipate a night of luxury and camaraderie.

Annabel Lee Whitlock, an undercover spy seeking the rich man's wealth, disguised as one of the man's guests. As for her disguise, she posed as Arabella Delphine, one of the plush man's trusted friends. For her plan to work out, she must not be seen by the host otherwise she would be caught with no way out.

To fit in with the guests, she wore a Midnight Blue bust down strapless evening dress with a black shawl around her upper arms, she had black long satin gloves.

There she arrived at the party right on time, the greeter at the entrance checked her name on the guest list. She was let in effortlessly, she smiled at this—this was gonna be easier than she thought. She walked among the crowds, the giggles and laugh of the other guests rang in her ears yet this didn't distract her, she continued on with her mission of finding the host’s vault.

She was wandering around trying to find a way to sneak into the vault when suddenly she stumbled upon a… woman with a suit? “How unusual…” she dusted off her dress, staring into the woman right in front of her.

“Greetings, I apologize for bumping into you.” she hurriedly spoke, worried.

“It's fine, really. What's your name dear?” Annabel smiled, tucking a strand of her curled hair behind her ear.

“My name's Lenore, Lenore Vandernacht. Pleasure to meet you.” Lenore smiled back, kissing the back of Annabel's hand.

She introduced herself. “I'm Arabella Delphine.” She continued on her disguise, not letting that kiss on the hand expose her.

“Ah! You're one of the host’s friends, yes?”

“Indeed, are you not one of his friends?”

“... I am, yes! I just thought you were one of the staff.”

“A staff?.. wearing a dress?”

"Oh! Well, can the staff not wear formal dress wear in a party as well?” Lenore smiled innocently, a hint of an annoyed tone hidden behind her voice.

Annabel glared “Hm, I suppose.” She uttered in defeat.

The two stood there awkwardly, waiting for the other to speak. It was only a few seconds but time seemed to drag on endlessly, Annabel just wanted to leave and continue to her mission but the other woman spoke.

“What brings you to the party?”

“Well I was invited, of course I would attend it. I never miss a party.”

“Ah, a partygoer. What's your work?”

“Oh, my dad owns a company. It's called ‘AD’ he's planning to make me CEO.”

“I've heard of that company before, are you the daughter of Ambrose Delphine?”

“Indeed, I must leave. I'm meeting up with a friend.”

“I understand, apologies for disturbing you.”

“It's quite alright, it was a pleasure talking to you. Ta-ta!” With that, Annabel quickly left.

Lenore, with a gleam of mischief dancing in her eyes and a playful smirk curling her lips, watched intently, her gaze fixed upon the target. With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she transmitted her observation through the concealed earpiece, her voice laced with amusement as she confirmed, "Yeah, I got her in sight.”

At the same time, Annabel finally found the vault. Thoughts of getting richer crossed her mind, but she reminded herself to focus on the task at hand. There she twisted the lock instantly opening it, she smiled at the sight of glowing gold before her. Before stepping in, she stopped. She thought for a moment, “This is way too easy,” a hint of suspicion lingered in her voice, she continued “There must be a catch.” she observed inside the vault, trying to find anything unusual or suspicious. When she found none, she took a deep breath before stepping in. No alarms were set up, she let out a sigh of relief. She took out a bag and started with the money first.

After that, she moved on to the gold but she was stopped. She heard a familiar voice behind her speak, her heart dropped to her stomach.

“Well, well, well.. Hello ‘Arabella’.”

Annabel turned around facing the woman she talked to earlier, Lenore. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was worried that you wouldn't find your way to your little friend.” Lenore spoke sarcastically. “Tch, I knew you were aiming for the vault. I knew you from the start Annabel Lee Whitlock.”

A drop of sweat fell from Annabel's face as she glared at the woman in front of her. She could feel the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. “What do you want, Lenore?”

Lenore just smirked playfully, walking closer to the Spy. She whispered in her ear, “Put those back Annabel Lee.”

Therefore Annabel lunged at Lenore, pinning her to the ground. Afterwards Lenore punched her in the face, leaving a bruise. Annabel groaned and stood up, a death glare could be seen. Lenore pinned her against the wall, leaving almost no space between them.

Annabel kicked her in the stomach and ran with money and some gold in her bag. Lenore stumbled and fell on the floor, landing on her butt. She quickly stood up and ran after Annabel, but it was too late, Annabel was already near the exit and Lenore would never reach her. However she kept running after her.

Annabel took off her heels and ran even faster. She got into her getaway car, and the driver drove off, leaving Lenore behind. She stood there, fuming that she hadn't caught the criminal. With a sigh, she informed her boss that she hadn't succeeded in apprehending the criminal. With that, she returned to the party.

During that time, Annabel began to breathe heavily once she got in the car. Exhausted from the running, she glanced at the driver, who wore a puzzled expression.

“Prospero, I- *pant* I didn't get all of it. But I got some!”

Prospero, the driver spoke with a satisfied tone. “Well done, Annabel.”

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Btw this is what Annabel was wearing :3 (CREDITS TO @/rednflynn ON TWT OFC!!!! :DDD)

≽^•⩊•^≼

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Hey, so, I've been contemplating this idea for a while, and I'm aware other people thought of this. But Bucky in a USO Chorus Girl outfit.

I imagine he'd be in the middle of a card game with Steve and their other comrades. Bucky's winning, he's getting cocky, so he makes a bet.

"If I lose, I have to wear one of them pretty outfits the showgirls wear."

Lo and behold, he loses. He's pissed about it. But he goes through with the bet.

And Steve?

Steve can't take his eyes off of Bucky for the life of him. But Bucky's being so whiny and pouty about it, acting like a brat.

So, Steve takes it upon himself to "fix" Bucky's attitude.

I was wondering if you have any thoughts on this? Or have you answered an ask similar to this before?

Oh my God, I love this idea. I've heard lots of ideas bouncing around in the stucky fandom after She Hulk, but never one exactly like this thought!

The thought of it being a lost bet is *chef's kiss*

I'm not currently taking prompts, but... what the hell, I only have a few days before I go back to college, I might as well spend my last little bit of this break by thinking of Bucky in a skirt...

Immediately, when you sent this prompt in, I was imagining Bucky with his arms crossed and a stormy look on his face. His lips are set in a straight line, and his brows furrowed; he's not pissed about being made to dress up in the skimpy outfit meant for one of the dancing dames that Steve twinkled over to this side of the war front with, he's fucking pissed that he lost. He was winning! And he woulda fuckin' won if Monty hadn't--

"You gonna give us a twirl, lady spangles?" Jim howls at him, grinning like a madman.

The wolf whistles of the other Howlies quickly join his words, overpowering them. Monty even sticks his fingers into his mouth to whistle extra loud--being, as usual, extra obnoxious. Just because he can.

"No," Bucky huffs, "that's not gonna happen," shifting where he stands, crossing his arms tighter and only letting his lip curl up slightly. He can feel the gauzy tulle fluffing the skirt swishing against his skin. Vaguely itchy and ticklish. He didn't put on the stockings to complete the outfit, but he kind of wishes that he did now. The sensation would be less distracting with another layer, at least. Probably. He's never worn stockings. Maybe they’d be even more distracting. Yet... he'd also be warmer with tights. Warmer if he hadn't fuckin’ lost and weren't wearing this sleeveless, low plunging, flag-blue top, revealing his decolletage and more. He's so cold his nipples are poking through the thin fabric. And the high waist joining the top and skirt is tight, pressing into him every time he takes a (hopefully) slow, calming breath. He feels not only cold but exposed, too.

Small mercies, at least, his hands were too big for any of the white, shiny gloves to be wearable. He can't get them over his fists. The same goes for the shoes. None of the dames have the same size feet as Bucky does. Saves him some of his dignity. Just some. He won't fall flat on his face in any tiny, shiny heels tonight.

"Aw, c'mon, girlie," they laugh, a fuckin’ peanut gallery, all of ‘em.

"Fuck you," Bucky rolls his eyes hugely.

Bucky would like to go back to approximately twenty minutes ago when they were congregated around a flipped over apple box on the dirty, dusty floor of Steve's private Captain's tent with flickering lamp light and hazy cigarette smoke hanging over them, laid back as much as they could when on the front. Now, standing alone and just barely inside the shut tent entrance makes Bucky feel like he's the game. He might not be as competitive as Steve fucking is, but he doesn't like this outcome. Not at all. He grumbles to himself some more.

"Aw, don't say that." Someone teases.

“Yeah, don't beat yourself up, honey!” Another of the guys piles on.

“Mm-hm. You're so pretty. There's no need to be embarrassed."

"Shake it, baby!"

A few other sarcastic replies and catcalls meet his blunt unenjoyment of this lost bet. Bucky feels himself slowly turning red. His Ma taught him better than to ogle at ladies. Apparently, none of these animals got that message, though. That, or, they don't care about ogling about a man in a lady's things.

"How long do I have to stand here and be drooled over? You fuckers miss your gals that much?" Bucky uncrosses his arms, fisting the hem of the skirt, pulling it down. Does this really cover any of Steve's dancers? He had to roll his skivvies up so they didn't hang out from under the skirt. "Am I done?"

"Just a little longer, twinkles. You haven't paid your dues just yet."

“Yeah, and you won't ‘til you give us a twirl!”

Laughter bounces among them.

Bucky flips them off. But, he does stand there until they get bored of him. The only thing he hates more than losing is not holding to his word. He made a bet. It wasn't a smart bet--even if he's pretty sure Monty cheated just to pull his leg (probably conspiring with the others)--but whatever.

Bucky doesn't realize until the Howlies are shuffling out of the tent, slapping Bucky on the shoulder or ass as they leave, saluting him and drawling, “goodnight, ma’am,” “night, dolly,” and “you come here often, how come I’ve not seen you here before, baby,” among other things before disappearing into the darkness that's swallowed the camp whole... Steve hasn't said anything. But it hits him over the back of the head, the realization, once they're alone in his oversized tent. Steve is a little shit. He never has enough self-control to resist piling on, ragging Bucky harder than anyone else can get away with. Yet...

He hasn't done anything.

And come to think of it, as Bucky ties the canvas tent flaps shut, their men all gone, he can feel Steve's eyes on him. They're intense. Normally, Bucky gets a sense for if his gaze is hungry and burning or worried or whatever. He's not sure what this is. But he knows he's looking.

What can Bucky do but turn around?

Bucky catches his blue eyes ripping up, ashamed, from the bottom hem of his ruffled skirt.

And... they're eye to eye now, a scant few feet separating them. Silent, for the moment. Though, it never takes long for Steve to open his big mouth.

Steve licks his lips, “you--” he clears his throat, a false start, “you sure you don't wanna give it just one twirl?”

Bucky groans, rolling his eyes so hard that he just might pull something. “No,” he grinds his right heel into the gritty floor, “I wanna get outta this fuckin’ thing. I'm done.” And he is. So done. He lost, he made a bet, he got his, he doesn't need more.

He’s so done that he reaches up behind his shoulder, grasping blindly for the zip at the nap of his neck, feeling for the cold metal. He brushes over it a few times but can't quite get a solid hold on it. Wiggling, Bucky tries his best to get it. He can't.

He huffs, dramatic but feeling very deserved, “Steeve.”

“Hmm?” Steve is looking right at him, but he sounds the same way he always does when he's distracted by something else. As if he's stuck in a drawing, and Bucky is pestering him by asking him to do the dishes or launder their sheets.

Bucky’s jaw clenches, “unzip me.”

“Y-yeah,” Steve licks his lips again.

Damn, he's gonna give himself chapped lips. Actually, can he even get chapped lips now? With the serum? Shaking his head, not staying stuck on the thought, Bucky steps forward, turning around when he's in front of Steve and waiting for him to--

Suddenly, Steve's big hands are on his waist, causing him to jump--spooked 'cause he was expecting to feel him at the nape of his neck, slowly taking the zipper of his dress down, leaving him even more exposed to the chill of the night air. His hands are fucking huge. Dinner-plate-sized paws, he swears it. Feeling them around his waist catches Bucky off-guard. They're warm, too. He burns like a furnace now. That's just as unfamiliar.

“Steve--” Bucky starts to complain, the edge of an exasperated whine in his voice.

“Buck,” Steve's thumbs are drawing back and forth over the thin, silky material of his waistband. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. The heat from his big, huge fucking mitts and his thick, broad chest as he steps in closer bleed into Bucky. They're not even touching yet, but he's not cold anymore. The gauzy tulle squishes up against the back of his legs. Itchy.

“Get me out of this thing, I swear, Steve I'll--” Bucky is cut off, gasping, when Steve digs his fingers into his hips and tugs him back against him at the same time. His strength is literally breathtaking.

His lips, hot, are against the shell of his ear, the rasp of his stubble--already coming in even though he cleaned up this afternoon, shaving by the river out back from camp--against his hair, catching, make Bucky's blood turn thicker, “you really hate this that much, Buck?” His voice is low, barely a whisper. Bucky can still hear it. He can feel it. Breathed hot and humid against him.

“Yes,” the word is out of his mouth before he can think twice.

“Hmm, that's a shame,” Steve husks, “I think you should keep it. It suits you.”

That night from the bar flashes through Bucky, scoffing, he struggles fruitlessly against Steve's hold on his hip, “is this just payback for what I said, you can’t keep me lik--”

It turns out Steve can still hold him in place with just one hand. An arm around his waist, the thick, hard muscle pressing into his body. His other hand is busy covering his mouth.

Oh.

“Who’d’a thought all it'd take to put some fight in you is putting you in a little skirt, huh?” Steve chuckles, “coulda done that back home an’ maybe you woulda won more at Y.” He pats Bucky's face, his hand still over his mouth, unmoving like the fucker he is. Too strong for his own good.

Still, Bucky struggles more. Grumbling and debating if it’s worth it to bite his hand, he doubts licking it would make a difference. Struggling if not to get away and punch Steve in his shoulder for being a dick than just to feel him flex--his forearm, bicep, and his chest, so close. Pressed up against him.

Steve, ever an asshole, just laughs more. He doesn’t go anyway, smiling into his hair, “aw, c'mon, don’t be sore at me, the guys were tellin’ the truth, you don't look bad at all, Buck. It suits you.”

“Mmm-mnh!” Bucky complains against his hand, muffled.

“It really suits you…” Steve murmurs, repeating himself as his other hand releases his waist and smooths up his bare thigh, moving up under the skirt. His eyes, oppositely, drag down his body. His gaze boring right into him.

Bucky can't speak because of Steve's hand, but he still trips over his own tongue, choking and feeling heat rise high on his cheeks. It climbs to his ears. Steve is groping him. Squeezing his thighs. Ruffling the tulle. It swishes around his body, rubbing up on him just as much as Steve is.

“You gonna quit bitchin’ if I let you go?”

Bucky thinks about shaking his head, he still wants out of this damn thing, but the gesture turns into a nod without his permission and when Steve, true to his word, stops cupping his wide palm over his mouth, not a sound comes out of him until--

“Ohh,” the moan spills out of Bucky's buzzing lips, dripping in shock and heat all because one of Steve's big hands is on his waist again, touching the soft, silky fabric--petting him almost--and the other has flipped up his skirt and dived under his skivvies to get a whole, huge handful of his ass. Squeezing him filthily. Grabbing him like he wants to take a chunk out of him.

Also with the poofy skirt pushed up and out of the way, Bucky can feel the hot line of Steve's cock against him.

Jesus.

He likes it. He really likes it. He really likes him in this tiny, little getup. They've only just gotten alone, and he immediately had to jump him, and--

“Good boy,” Steve's voice is just a hot and just as close as his dick, pressed into his neck. Humid, dripping with arousal.

His voice is enough of a reward for Bucky, but Steve is generous. He adds to it. Letting his hand travel from his waist up his front, heavily dragging over his hip and stomach and chest until he gets to his nipple. They're still hard. Aching points on his chest. Needing to be touched.

“Nnngh,” another unintentional sound comes out of him when Steve thumbs his left nipple, sending a skittering spark down to his dick and pushing the shirt up.

Steve coos at him, the low hum rumbling through his chest and into Bucky, and Bucky… Bucky is washed away with another wave of heat, flushed heat to toe, and melting back onto Steve's chest. He doesn't budge. A fuckin’ brick wall. All muscle. God.

“That's it,” Steve encourages him, two thick fingers grazing his tight hole between his cheeks, making him shiver bonelessly, “see? That wasn't so hard. Just be good. Lemme look at you.”

Bucky’s so distracted that he doesn't even snip at Steve for doing much more than looking at him. He quivers, head to toe, without a single coherent thought in his head. "Steve," he pleads.

"Jus' lemme look," he reiterates, his voice a delicious purr and his hands dangerous paws, hitting him exactly where it counts.

[crazystargirl]

jealous? i don't get jealous! ♥

NONE OF THESE LINKS BELOW ARE UPDATED

pt. 3 || pt.4 || pt. 5

pairing ♥: spider soccoro x reader, spider soccoro x human!reader, jealous!spider soccoro x reader

word count ♥: 0.7k!

author's note ♥: ok so funny story i forgot to find the photos and edit them so please ignore how vibrant they are (its hurting my eyes) i might fix it later but idk im lazy lmao, anyways heres pt 4! i honestly dont know if i hate this or not and i feel like it might be kinda rushed

you woke up to spider shaking you softly, it was bright outside which was something you were not used to since you pretty much spent all your time in the lab

"y/n/n you're the last one up"

"holy shit what? why didn't you wake me up earlier?" you say with a groan

"baby we did or at least tried to, i was the last one to try"

Neteyam come in and starts laughing, you glare at him

"why the fuck are you laughing?"

"no it's just that lo'ak owes me and spider since he said there was no way spider could wake you up, but it looks like he did!" Neteyam says gleefully 

you groan and try and lay back down but spider grabs you

"nuh uh y/n you gotta get up" he says as you continue to struggle against his grasp

"I'll leave her to you" neteyam says as he walks out

you continue to fight spider and eventually he gets annoyed so he just tosses you on his shoulder and starts to walk

"shit! spider! put me down!" you say trying to get off

"no chance y/n/n you needed to get up and if i didn't do that you would've gone back to sleep" 

after marching you out to where everyone was he finally put you down

"good morning y/n!" tuk says giving you a hug

"morning tuk" you hug her back

"why was spider carrying you?" Lo'ak blurted out and as expected everyone was staring at him

"uh cause she wasn't going to get up and come out if i didn't" spider says looking at Lo'ak strangely

"why can't he do that hm? you jealous?" kiri says joining in on the conversation

"what no why would i be" Lo'ak says bitterly 

spider knew full well that lo'ak had a crush on you and was going to do everything in his power to make sure that you were not going to end up with him

"alright kids settle down" jake says coming over to you guys

"but things just got so interesting" neteyam says with a pout

you all laugh not realizing the Lo’ak was evidently pissed at all of yall

jake tells everyone that some of yall can go fishing with him, Neytiri, and tuk or go exploring

You all decided that you were just going to go exploring since in all honesty no one wanted to go fishing

as you guys started exploring, you noticed lo'ak kind of lingering behind the group

you decide to hang back and talk to him

"hey lo'ak you good?"

he looks at you like a deer in headlights, shocked that you decided to talk to him

it seemed that the whole time or even whenever you were allowed out the lab spider was always all over you, giving him barely anytime with you and obviously making him jealous. the worst part? you never even tried to stop spider which made lo'ak mad

"yeah im good, why whats up?" he said looking down at you

"nothing you just look pale and upset"

"yeah little bro you should go back to camp, you look like you're gonna faint or something" neteyam says looking back at the two of you 

"alright i guess I'll go…" Lo'ak says turning around

"i can go with him" you say looking at the group "y'know to make sure he doesn't get lost or anything" 

"thanks y/n" Lo'ak says looking at you and starting to walk, you folkowing behind

Kiri and Neteyam turn to spider whose eyes are narrowed and looks mad

"Dude you good?" Neteyam says looking at spider

"Yeah…no… i dont know" spider says sitting down

"Spider you like y/n its so obvious that its kinda vomit worthy" kiri says kneeling next to spider

"Yeah you get jealous whenever she's with or talking to lo'ak" neteyam adds

"i dont get jealous!" spider says looking at the two

"sure keep telling yourself that" kiri says laughing, "but seriously you need to ask her out before lo'ak does"

"we love our lil bro but honestly he's not gonna be good with y/n" neteyam adds

"i know i do i just dont know if i can do it…like what if she rejects me? thats gonna be awkward" spider says

"you gotta try first at least please for our sake?" kiri asks

"yeah alright i will" spider says getting up

"thats the spirit! now lets go so we can get back at a decent time!"

series taglist ♥: @ok-boke, @spiderscrrowife, @myh3artttt, @multi-simp-page, @universal-s1ut

regular taglist ♥: @xyzstar, @ourloveisgod23, @dizscreams, @kaesworldxx, @bhk1234uwu, @nonniesworld, @lanaslittletwinkie

©crazystargirl 2023 || do NOT copy or repost my work without my permission

[gaysullengirl]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞, 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. in another universe

❝ If you find yourself out, if there is a right

time chances are I'll be here, we could

share a lifeline ❞ - free now, gracie abrams

The rest of the drive to Owen's house was uncomfortably silent, the pair got out of the suv and walked up to Owen's house.

They walked down the hall that smelled of dust to Owen's room, "I'm gonna look on his computer." Spencer said and Isabelle nodded.

She sat down on the end of Owen's bed and observed his room, repeatedly rubbing the sweat off her palms against her pants, praying it would go away but it only appeared again.

Spencer kept his eyes fixed on her computer even though he felt Isabelle's eyes boring into the back of his skull. 

"Neutrinos." Isabelle said and released a shaky breath.

Spencer turned, "Huh?" "Neutrinos are nearly massless particles that-"

"Isa, I know what neutrinos are." Spencer said, a slight laugh escaped his lips.

She looked at him, "Right, sorry, well then you know they're strange- they're almost nothing at all, they have no mass no charge. They're just little whisps of," She paused, "Nothing."

Spencer looked at her puzzled, "Why are you telling me this?"

"I was reading a paper about them and I tend to link things to people- like if I listen to a song that reminds me of someone, and while I was reading I just kept thinking about myself."

Spencer tilted his head, as if to ask, 'How?' "Neutrinos- they don't bond with anything."

Spencer kept his eyes fixed on her's, "Good thing you're not a neutrino."

Isabelle looked up, "Was that a joke?" She asked sincerely, "No! I mean I'm just saying even though you feel like a Neutrino you're not one, you can bond with people."

"Realistically I know that, but it doesn't feel like it."

"Who have you bonded with?" Spencer questioned, "A lot of people. I don't actually mean actually bonding- I mean like loving someone."

"You don't feel like you could love someone?"

"Sort of. Mostly I feel like someone could never love me."

Spencer thought that was the dumbest thing Isabelle ever said, but instead of telling her that he stood up from the chair and sat down next to Isabelle on the bed.

"For a long time I felt the same, I loved my mom and I knew she loved me but I never thought I'd find... romantic love."

"I thought I'd just be alone forever no one to come home to or anyone who would enjoy my company- But then I found you." Spencer's eyes were somehow filled with sorrow and affection at the same time.

Isabelle's lips turned down, "Do you believe there are other universes?" She asked.

"I don't know." Spencer replied honestly, he hadn't spent enough time researching about them to give a definite answer.

"If I could live in an alternate universe..." Isabelle trailed off and looked down, "I'd chose one where we didn't break up."

She could feel her eyes burning, tears reluctantly falling, Isabelle covered her face with her hands, embarrassed.

"Fuck. I hate crying." She rubbed her eyes.

Spencer placed his hand on her chin, gently angling her face toward him.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Isabelle groaned and stood up, "Who is it?" She called and walked down the hallway, "Morgan! Hotch sent me over here to help you guys." He yelled from the other side of the front door.

The three walked back to Owen's room, Spencer immediately beginning to search the computer again.

Morgan noticed the tension and glanced between the two, "You guys okay?" Isabelle nodded quickly, "Yeah! It's just a heavy case, you know?"

Morgan nodded, "You guys find anything else out?"

Isabelle looked to Spencer, "Well it seems like Owen just wants to forget everything."

Morgan gritted his teeth, "Hm, I noticed he makes a big deal out of saying goodbye in his emails to Jordan."

Spencer turned to the computer and quickly pulled up their messages, "None of its shorthand."

"That's odd."

Spencer focused his gaze on their conversations, "He never got a chance to say good bye to his mother, abandonment is his biggest fear." He explained.

"That's why he chose Jordan, he thinks she'll never leave him."

Fuck. Isabelle couldn't help but stare into Spencer's doe eyes, though he had reminded her multiple times that he didn't hate her for leaving, she hated her self for leaving.

The guilt and embarrassment followed her every where she went, it would dare to give her a moment of peace.

Morgan's voice pulled Isabelle from her thought's, "Mhm." Morgan agreed, "We gotta go tell Hotch."

୨୧

"Owen's mother's death left him with severe issues of abandonment." Spencer stated as the trio approached Hotch.

"If we can get Jordan away from him, we'll save her, and take away his reason to live." Spencer said the last few words hesitantly.

"He'll take his own life." Hotch responded, "It's the only way we can save Jordan." Emily added.

Isabelle bit her lip, "How can we get her to leave him?"

Emily sighed, "He's keeping Jordan in the dark, she doesn't know about the murders."

"You want to tell her?"

"If we can, we could possibly get her to turn herself in."

"But even if we could talk to her, the only person she trusts is Owen."

"There's one other person, she might be able to get a message to Jordan." Emily added.

୨୧

Isa slowly took a sip of her coffee and grimaced, the team had recruited Jordan's best friend to message her, it was working until it was obvious Owen somehow got a hold of the phone.

"Cruz! Come on!" She heard Hotch shout and turned around, seeing him putting on his bullet proof vest.

"What happened?" "Jordan just came in, Owen's at a ranch." He replied and tossed her a vest.

The suv speed down the house's road, kicking up dirt behind it.

She hopped out of the suv, Spencer followed behind her.

"Shit, Owen's not here." They heard Morgan call, they both holstered their guns and searched the house.

"I found a note." The sheriff called, it read 'I'm going to return my mom's necklace.'

"He's not going home, the necklace isn't there, where's his mother buried?" Hotch questioned.

Spencer swiftly ripped the velcro on his vest off, "Reid, what are you doing?" Hotch asked.

He ran his hands through his hair, "He's gonna force us to kill him, I don't need to be a part of that, you don't need me."

Hotch nodded slightly, "Meet us at the station."

୨୧

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and Isabelle pulled up to the cemetery.

They searched it and waited for Owen, Isabelle crouched down to Owen's mother's grave 'Hope Savage, Mother, Wife.'

"Something's wrong." Hotch muttered.

"He had a head start, if he was coming here, he'd be here already." Rossi offered.

Isabelle looked toward the three men, "He said he wanted to say good bye, give her back the necklace."

Hotch gave her a look, "Yeah, so?", "He wasn't talking about his mother- he was talking about Jordan."

As if on cue Hotch's phone rang, "Yeah?"

"Ok, we're on our way." Hotch sighed, "Reid knew."

୨୧

The suv swerved around the corner causing Morgan and Isabelle to jolt to the left.

Outside the police station stood Spencer, his hands raised, in front of him, Owen- his hair was combed and he held an assault rifle.

The three men jumped out of the suv and crouched behind it, "Isabelle, what are you doing?" Morgan questioned.

Isabelle felt frozen, she got out of the suv- a horrified look on her face.

She could hear Spencer attempting to reason with Owen, "I know the only reason you killed Rod Norris and Kyle Borden was to protect Jordan."

Owen stared at him, tears filled his eyes.

"I know the harder you tried, the worse it got, and it felt like everybody just stood there watching you suffer, not a single person even tried to help."

"They didn't." Owen confirmed.

"And I know your biggest fear is Jordan leaving you, just like your mother when she died." He said, his head tilted downward.

Spencer looked behind him, his eyes meeting Isabelle's, "Look, I know you want to escape and forget- believe me when I say I know exactly how that feels."

"But you know what? You don't have to die."

Owen shook his head, "No, No. I'm already dead.”

"No you're not, If you die, you're gonna leave Jordan and you'd never do that to her, right?"

"Mhm" Owen responded, "I wanna see her- you bring her out here."

"I'm sorry but I can't do that, I can't bring her outside, but if you put the gun down, I swear to god, I'll take you to her."

"I promise nobody will hurt you, you'll get to say good bye to her- ok and that's all you want... right?" Spencer asked, his voice breaking.

Owen leaned down, setting the rifle down, Spencer lead him to the front of the police station.

Emily hand cuffed him and took him inside, "Reid! What the fuck man!" Morgan yelled.

"It was fine, I had it handled." Spencer reasoned.

Isabelle and Spencer's eyes meet, both of them on the verge of tears.

Isabelle ran to Spencer and pulled him into a tight hug, practically knocking him over.

"It's okay." He said, running his hand through her hair.

Isabelle pulled back, "It's not! I swear to fucking god if you pull some bull shit like that again I'll kill you!" She threatened before yanking him back into a hug.

"I'm sorry." He apologized, "I thought I was gonna lose you, you scared me so fucking bad." She cried, her voice muffled from being against his chest.

authors note!

sorry for posting this on friday instead of wednesday !!

[paradox-destroyer]

Unwanted Guardian

October 9th, 12:45am

Arven paced near the Magikarp pond in the schoolyard. He couldn't sit still if he even wanted to; there had been too much going on in his mind.

Was everyone in that chatroom gonna be okay? Why did his father seek him out? And why was he so insistent on talking to him? Why did he have to get reminded of his mother? How was he going to get the Herba Mystica?

It was beginning to be too much. He was starting to deeply regret going along with the assignments he was given. He wouldn't have to deal with the constant anxiety of others' wellbeing, had he not sought out a community.

Why did he even care so much? He shouldn't care. He couldn't afford to get attached, nor let people get attached to him. There were too many things he had to do. He felt it only right that nobody paid him a second thought.

But now everything felt as if it were going south, and he had not even begun to set his plans in motion. He felt so lost... So scared. So alone. And at that moment, he thought he was alone. Until...

"... Arven?"

Arven let out a startled gasp as his head snapped towards the direction he heard the voice from, only to see the Director calmly approaching.

"... What are you doing here?" He asked, "Don't people around your age go to bed before the sun goes down?"

"While it is true that I typically am asleep at this time," explained the Director, "I just had a... Hunch, that something was amiss."

"Though, I wanted to ask you that same question," He continued, raising an eyebrow at the student, "Whatever are you doing pacing around here at such an hour?"

"None of your business," replied Arven, in a harsh tone as he turned to look down at the pond.

"Arven..." Clavell's face softened to a more concerned expression. "I know you are going through quite a lot, right now. I do not wish to make you feel obligated to talk to me, but..."

The director walked a bit closer to Arven, standing next to him and gazing by the pond as well.

"I do wish to remind you that you do not have to hold all of your troubling thoughts to yourself," he said, "Shared sorrow only halves the sorrow, after all."

"Tch... You with your fucking cliches, again," remarked Arven, as he crossed his arms, "Like your mottos and mantras can fix everything going wrong in my life right now."

Clavell glanced over at Arven before back at the pond. "... My apologies if my sayings are getting a bit old, dear boy," he said, "It is true, no one can fix everything that had gone astray with a few kind words or the wave of their hand. But..."

The Director placed a hand on Arven's shoulder, just to have it shaken off, and resigned to keeping his hands behind himself.

"There is something to be said about having the support of others," he continued, "If I cannot help you, then at the very least, I can provide a presence and listening ear until you feel well enough to keep moving forward in life. Not as a director concerned for a student, but..."

He looked over at Arven, giving the boy a gentle smile.

"A family friend, as well."

Arven huffed, his gaze fixated on the water. "Great," he said, "Nobody asked."

Clavell sighed. "Fair enough," he said, looking back at the pond, "But I figured I should put the offer out there, regardless."

"... Why don't you get it?"

"Hm...?" Clavell looked over at Arven again.

"Arven..." Clavell held a hand out towards the student only for it to get slapped away as Arven glared at him with rage in his eyes.

"I don't want your support," Arven snapped, "I don't NEED it!"

"WHEN are you going to get it through your STUBBORN OLD MAN BRAIN," he shouted, "That I want NOTHING to do with you?!"

Clavell stared at Arven with a concerned and saddened yet unsurprised expression. He had grown used to these outburtsts by now.

A couple seconds of silence, and then Arven let out a frustrated huff. "Look. I'll do your stupid assignments, only because I want my grades back up," he said, "But beyond that, just get off my fucking back."

Clavell watched as Arven left the schoolyard before sighing and putting his head in his hands for a brief moment. "Legends give me guidance..."

Koraidon appeared by his side, staring in the direction Arven had just left in with a sad growl.

"It will be alright," said Clavell, petting the side of Koraidon's neck. "As long as I live, I will do whatever I can to watch over him."

"After all... I know it's what Sada would have wanted."

[kissesforsatoru]

I have no idea where this thought is going- but it’s a scenario in my head that I refuse to leave it alone on my own so here is a shitty written Yandere scenario from me of whatever this is:

Context: it’s that toman bonten Yandere Baji và Yandere executive bf for you thing

“how did you find me” a simple question left you. You stare at the male figure now inside your house. You never expected guest- you never we’re allowed to have guest over yet here he is. Baji in the flesh in your kitchen with you sitting across from your kitchen table. “Can’t I just visit for fun sweet thing” Baji ask a tone so soft to your ear, though his hands were always covered in blood, his voice rumbles like as thunder around others he always kept his voice so gentle and soft for you.

To Baji there was no one else he would’ve wanted to see him like this other than you

The seconds that pass felt so long. You sat across feeling his eyes on you. Much the feeling is almost familiar to you- still you rather not have to feel his eyes. You were losing yourself in your own thoughts before you could never come back to reality

“Babe you look lost- where’d ya go in that pretty little head hm?”

You snap back to reality remembering what- who is in your home. A deep breath was silently let out from you “Baji-“

“Kei”

“What-?”

“Call me Kei none of that Baji. I wanna hear you say my name” he said with a firm tone.

“Kei I think…I think you need to go it’s late and well…you know he wouldn’t be happy to see us like this” you said, eyes staring at anything but him as you got up to walk him to the front door hoping he leave.

As you got up he got up approaching you. Now this time you can feel his chest on your back, you feel his presence- smell the strong cologne on him. You can feel how his firms arms wrapped around your waist. Pulling you close while his face- his nose nuzzle the the side of your cheek as his breath lands on to your neck. “You scared little princess” he ask in a whisper on your neck. “You scared of him?” He ask.

You feel frantic. Worried about this whole ordeal going on now. “K-Kei please no!” Your plea going unheard as Baji continue on with his actions.

“Pretty girl your man ever been gentle with you” he ask but with an emphasis on man- like as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “Answer me it’s rude to not answer you know”

“N-no he isnt Kei..” Baji huffs a bit before his body leads you to the chair. Having you sit on his lap now hands from your waist now on your thighs. “Why don’t we fix that hm. Such soft thing should be handled with such care”

An uneasy feeling rises up from you as his hands starts to roam again. As he starts to feel you again once more. You lightly place your hand on his shoulders halting him from what he’s about to do now worried of the effects “K-Kei wait what if he walks in on us like this. I can’t have him see us - see me with you like this” you said eyes widen with worry your voice scared feeling your heart drop at the idea of angering him again.

Baji eyes stare deep into your own. His eyes such intense stare it could have you on your knees, his eyes look unbothered by all this as you feel a small kiss on your temple as one hand is now on your head. Softly patting your head.

“Don’t worry pretty baby if he tries anything I’ll take care of it”

- 🌑

OKAY, i've been waiting to respond to this literally since i recieved it because 0D[UQOPAHJADF, but i've been at a loss for words

i love it when baji has this dominating aura but he just comes off as so soft, like when he told you to call him kei or when he tells you he's gonna treat you gently cause you're all soft and deserve to be handlled with care. AND, the way he tells you he's not gonna let any harm come to you. it's just UGH

i really enjoyed reading this, so thank you for sending it in!