#i distinctly remember watching this video when it came out and thinking “man i hope someone clips this on tumblr ppl would love it”

[quicksilversnails]

Bug to bug communication

Transcript/description:

A clip from Pearl’s Episode 4 of Hermitcraft Season 9. Pearl is sneaking up on Bdubs in his base.

Pearl: [whispering] Hi Bdubs. Hello.

Bdubs: [quiet and guttural] Hi-wha - Hello.

Pearl: [quietly] Hello.

Bdubs: [quietly] Hello.

Pearl: Hi.

Bdubs: Hi! Don’t you- I know- I know what you’re trying to do, you’re trying to be less scary, that was more scary!

[real-life-cloud]

26 w/ krbk? 👀

teehee thank you !! such a cute prompt.. very fun to write! ♥ i sort of mixed it with '23: waking up' a little bit hehe

you can read the drabble on ao3 → here

you can see the prompt list → here

⛅

Prompt 26: Bed Hair wordcount: 1.2k

Eijirou was used to waking up alone.

The last time he’d slept in the same bed as someone was probably when he was a little kid. He used to sneak into his older sister’s room when he had nightmares. But the last time that happened must’ve been nearly a decade ago. He hardly slept anywhere but his own room.

So when he woke up that early summer morning, his first thought was, ‘Where am I?’ 

That was a quickly answered question. His memories of the night before drifted back in pieces—he invited himself over to Bakugou’s house for a sleepover. Bakugou complained about it the entire time, but he never told him to leave. He was funny like that. Eijirou had a lot of fun that night, they did some of their summer school work together and played video games. Dinner was great, and Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou seemed to really like him, too.

When it came time for them to sleep, (Bakugou’s eyes began to droop around 8 o’clock, but he dutifully stayed up with EIjirou until 10 PM. Eijirou didn’t have the heart to tell him that was still early for him.) instead of staying on a mattress on the floor, Bakugou told him to, “Shut the fuck up and sleep on that side of the bed. It’s plenty big enough.”

So he easily came to his senses and realized he was in Bakugou’s room, in Bakugou’s bed.

His second thought was, ‘Holy shit, I’m basically cuddling Bakugou.’ 

They were facing each other, Eijirou’s own arm slung over his friend’s torso. The shared covers were a twisted and tangled mess, and their legs were much the same. He distinctly remembered falling asleep facing away from each other, not touching. They must’ve both chased each other’s warmth in their sleep. His face reddened at the thought.

His third thought wasn’t much of a thought at all, really. More of a feeling—a tug at his heart, a hold on his lungs. Because Bakugou looked serene.

His face was completely relaxed for once, something Eijirou didn’t think he’d ever seen before. He wondered if anyone had. He felt a little boost to his ego at the thought.

It was a rare sight to see his face so smoothed out. All the harsh lines and wrinkles of his usual scowls and sneers were nowhere to be seen. And it wasn’t like his more blank, bored face either. He looked so calm, so vulnerable. The side of his face was pressed into his pillow, and Eijirou thought he spotted a line of drool, much to his amusement. He had one hand clutching onto the sheets with the other just barely grazing Eijirou’s chest. His breathing was slow and easy.

Eijirou could’ve stared all morning.

Of course, it was right then that Bakugou’s eyebrows pinched together and he began to stir.

It was like all the bitterness in his body came back in stages. First his eyebrows, then his nose scrunched up. A twitch of his mouth, a flex of his fingers. He nuzzled his head in his pillow a little more, like he was fighting against wakefulness. Eijirou watched it happen with both curiosity and endearment. He could feel a dumb smile make its way onto his face.

Bakugou pried one eye open, and Eijirou belatedly thought that maybe he shouldn’t be staring so hard. Probably too late for that now.

Red eyes, sharper than his own, bleared at him sleepily. Bakugou looked confused for a handful of seconds, before he rubbed at his eyes. The shift made Eijirou realize he still had an arm wrapped around him—he took it back a little too quickly.

“Uh, morning, man!” He said with a toothy grin. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

Bakugou grumbled back, saying something with little resemblance to actual words. His voice sounded lower than usual.

Once Bakugou took his hand away from his face and looked at Eijirou with clear eyes, though, he paused. Then, Bakugou did the last thing he would’ve ever expected. He laughed.

It started small. An unbelieving huff, not much of a laugh at all. Followed by a snort, then a wheeze.

“What?” Eijirou asked, thoroughly confused.

Bakugou muffled his laughter.

“What is it??” He asked a little louder, an embarrassed smile creeped onto his face. He pushed up from the bed and cocked his head to the side. And that was the final straw.

A sharp bark of laughter broke from Bakugou’s throat, followed by a positively evil sounding giggle. If asked, he’d liken it to a witch’s cackle or maybe a snickering goblin. Eijirou adored the sound of it.

He had never heard him laugh like that before. Usually, his laughter was mean and mocking. But this was something pure. Unadulterated amusement. He never wanted it to stop.

But he still didn’t know what was so funny. Did he look funny? Reflexively, he looked down at his pajamas to see if he had somehow changed into something ridiculous in his sleep. But it was the same blue tank top and plain sweat shorts that he remembered changing into. His visible confusion just made Bakugou laugh harder.

His laughter was contagious. Eijirou felt a chuckle of his own bubble up in his chest. “Why are you laughing at me, dude!?”

Bakugou calmed down enough to catch his breath, but still had to fight a giggle to get his words out. “Look in a fucking mirror or something, idiot. Oh my god.” He finally said.

Eijirou felt around the bed for his phone in a hurry and quickly pulled up his camera app, then set the camera to front facing mode. He noticed straight away.

“Oh.” Was all he said. It had Bakugou falling apart in giggles again.

It was his hair. Oh god, his hair. He must’ve fallen asleep without taking the gel out again. But even the couple times this happened before, it didn’t look this silly. You’d think it would be hard for his hair to look messy, since he spiked it in all directions anyway. But he would have you know that he worked very hard to make his hair look a certain way. Every spike was in its place. Usually. But definitely not that morning.

Most of his hair was going in one direction, with a steep cliff of a flattened edge where his head had rested on his pillow. The back was a mangled mess, like he’d shook his head back and forth in his sleep too much. One horn was still proudly pointed up and the other was stuck to his forehead. He couldn’t blame Bakugou for laughing. 

He started laughing in earnest, too. “Oh my god, I look so stupid.”

“I know!” Bakugou wheezed.

They laughed for a good long while. It would simmer down back into quiet, but all it took was them catching eyes and they’d both be back in stitches. Eijirou’s face hurt from how much he was smiling. His chest felt full to the brim with affection, spilling out with every wheeze and giggle. Bakugou looked so pretty when he was happy. He wanted to stay like this forever.

His next thought that morning was, ‘I want to wake up like this for the rest of my life.’ Bedhead and all.

[jungkook-fanfic-blog]

“It’s Not A Kink, I Swear”

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Summary: You always wanted to try something with your boyfriend, but never had the courage to say it. You’re always reminded of it whenever you look at his tattoos.

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff, established relationship, idol verse

Warnings: PWP, dom/sub themes, dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, dirty talk, praise, forearm riding, unprotected sex (wrap your dickies, don’t get kiddies), creampie, ass grabbing, nipple play, short handjob, somewhat cockwarming, name calling (Jungkook calls reader slut like once), cussing

Word count: 2.7K

☆☆☆☆☆ 

Walking inside the apartment you shared with your boyfriend you instantly felt relief, mostly because the AC was on while the world outside was on fire, but also because you couldn't wait to spend some time with your boyfriend, despite him coming home at a crazy time. Putting away the take out you picked up on your way from work you call out into the seemingly empty apartment, there was noise coming from the living room, like your TV was on even though you distinctly remember turning it off before going to work. 

"Kook? Baby you here?"

You heard a grunt in response coming from the living room, walking into it, you saw your boyfriend lying on the sofa, remote in hand and flipping through channels. It was a rare sight to see him at home before you, knowing just how demanding his job is and how packed his schedule is. It definitely was a rare sight, but one that put a goofy smile onto your face.

"Hello babygirl, how was work?" He asked, pouting his lips to get a kiss from you to which you gladly complied. Kissing his pouting soft lips you let out a small giggle which brought a smile to his face. Jungkook sat up, grabbing your forearm and pulling you onto his lap, hugging your waist. You let out a quiet 'fine' as you wrap your arms around his neck. Just noticing that he was wearing a tank top, his muscles and tattoos on full display.

You told him multiple times he should reveal all his tattoos to their fans, knowing damn well there are fans who would kill to see them all and see your boyfriend in a tank top, proudly showing them off. Jungkook was still a little hesitant about the whole thing, but he was getting more comfortable showing them. You secretly loved that you're one of the few people that actually got to see him, see his tattoos, like this. 

It made you feel special.

Although just the thought of his tattoos was enough to get you excited, thinking of his inked fingers inside you, fucking you until you can't think was extremely inviting and pleasing to you. You never really liked tattoos, always seeing them on men that would talk big shit, saying how they are basically gods against men. So really maybe you didn't have a problem with tattoos, but with whom you associated them with.

And then the pictures dropped. Pics of Jungkook and his new sleeve tattoos, his knuckles graced with the word ARMY on them, and honestly you thought it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. You did message your boyfriend asking him about them, well more like sending him the pictures with a message attached that said "Motherfucker what the fuck?!!!" You were experiencing a lot of emotion at the time, one particular emotion, one spark, that you never believed would come from a guy with ink, but one that always came from Jungkook.

Fuck maybe you shouldn't have thought of it so much, you could already feel yourself starting to get wet, getting more comfortable on his lap you grind lightly on his crotch, catching his attention.

"What are you up to princess?" Jungkook smirks at you, watching how your eyes dilate slowly and your expression becomes more lust filled.

You felt his strong hands move downwards on your ass, squeezing it tightly. You always did joke with your boyfriend that he had an ass kink, no matter how much he denied it. Always showed him photographic evidence of it, pictures of him and his hands on his members' asses or videos of him slapping them, there was even the time Jungkook said touching their butts was a way to relieve nerves before a concert.

He truly was an ass man.

"You like it babygirl?" He asked while he massaged your cheeks and squeezing here and there. You let out a whimper, moving your hips more, your eyes darted to his right forearm and bicep every once in a while, catching Jungkook's attention.

"What is it baby? What do you want?" He was teasing you and he knew it, you always got shy when telling him exactly what you wanted him to do, yet he loved hearing you say it and beg for him to give you a release. Yet you couldn't utter the things you wanted from him, thinking it might freak him out although you knew he'd give you anything and everything you wanted. "Come on baby, speak."

His big hands moved to your breasts, immediately pinching your clothed nipples between his fingers making your back arch and have your chest pressed against his own. Your hands planted themselves on his pecs this time, always loving the feeling of his hard muscles under your fingertips. Jungkook suddenly twisted your sensitive buds, you were moaning in delight at the attention you were given.

He started kissing your neck slowly, "You're not telling me Y/N." He said in a sing-sang voice, tone teasing with a hint of dominance, he wanted you to tell him, and he wanted it now.

"I-it's a little dirty." You stuttered, cheeks hot at the thoughts that were swimming around your head, at the actions and feelings you wanted to act upon.

"Oh I'm counting on that princess."

"It is also something we've never done and might be a tad weird." You pulled your lower lip between your teeth, your brain telling you to turn back now while there was still time and do everything like you always have, but your body was craving it, wanting to experience this. At least once. Jungkook gave an amused 'oh' at that, leaving wet, hot kisses on your jaw.

"Now I'm extra intrigued." He began sucking hard on your collarbone, no doubt leaving red marks all over them. You could feel his hardened bulge directly on your pussy, igniting the fire between your thighs even more. Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to get out of your jeans, the barrier between the pleasure that was awaiting you. Moving away from Jungkook for a second you began unbuttoning your jeans, wanting to get up and get them off but your partner had other plans. Jungkook flipped you and pressed your back against the sofa, easily hooking his fingers in your pants, as well as your panties, and sliding them down with ease.

He flipped you back so you were once again straddling his lap, your juices leaking out and making a mess of his gray sweats. You could feel the ache of your pussy, your clit wanting to receive attention from your super fucking hot boyfriend. Fuck, he is so beautiful.

"Tell me your fantasy Y/N," Jungkook whispered in your ear, making a shiver run down your spine in anticipation. 

"I-I want to ride," you lick your dry lips, moving your eyes from Jungkook's intense gaze to look down at his shirt. Jungkook cocked his head to the side, urging you to continue, "I want to try riding your forearm." You mumbled the last word while burying your face in his neck, shyness overtaking you after placing the request, despite you being half naked on top of him.

Jungkook grabbed your thighs, spreading them more over his lap, a smirk playing on his lips. He moved his left arm underneath them but halted as you grabbed his wrist, "Not this arm." He let out a chuckle, moving his right arm under you and lifting it so it's pressed against your throbbing bud. A delicious moan left your throat at the feeling of his skin against you, making you instantly move against it.

You dig your nails into his shoulders to steady yourself, eyes closing as you lost yourself to the feeling. The smooth skin rubbing at your most sensitive part, the knowledge that you’re making a mess of his gorgeous tattoos made your hips buck into his forearm more, needing to feel more. You were moving faster, feeling your release close in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook's fingers grabbed your ass and squeezed it, loving the way a gasp fell past your lips at the added sensation.

"Ah...mmm...fuck Kook!" You moaned into your boyfriend's neck, wrapping your arms tightly around it.

"Close, my love?" His tone was teasing, you were getting sloppier with your movements, going from front to back, to one side and other, in circles which did mean you were close and he knew it. "Come on babygirl, cum. Cum all over my arm. Make a fucking mess like you fucking wanted."

And those dirty words were enough to push you off the edge. The sheer thought of getting to see his veiny, tattoo-covered forearm covered in your cum, glistening with your sweet release was the last drop that spilled the water out of the glass. "Fuck! Jungkook!" You were cumming with a loud moan, riding out your high slowly. Your hips slowed down their movements at the oversensitivity of your clit. You felt kisses on your cheek and forehead, silent praises of 'you did so good' and 'such a good girl for me' fell past your boyfriend's lips.

"Was it everything you hoped for?" Jungkook asked as you lifted your head from his shoulder, his big bunny smile in front of your eyes. You nodded your head mumbling a 'yeah' in affirmation. You took a glance at his forearm, whining in delight at the sight, his arm and tattoos glistening in cum under the light. 

Jungkook started kissing your neck again, sucking sweetly, licking and biting intensely, no doubt making hickies that he'll gloat about later especially if someone points them out. At some point Jungkook lifted his hips up and took off his sweats down to his knees, you suppose you were sucked into your pleasure too much to notice him undressing. 

You looked down at his boxers immediately noticing the tent in them and a wet spot at the top of it, you moved your hand to the elastic band of his boxers and pulled them down to expose his cock. As it sprung free hitting his lower stomach your hand hovered over it before squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock which was spilling precum down his shaft. Jungkook hissed at your touch, his cock was very hard and sensitive and ready to be slipped inside your wet, hot cunt.

He lifted you by your thighs and positioned you directly over his dick, his head rubbing at your entrance teasing you as he slid it in a little then out. You mewled at the teasing of it wanting to feel him inside hitting that heavenly spot that made you go weak in the knees and cry out in pleasure. You tried lowering yourself down on his cock but Jungkook held you tighter not letting you on it.

"Not yet babygirl, not yet." He kissed your cheek, "Beg for it little slut." He entered you suddenly, his girth stretching your pussy pleasantly, yet he didn't move just yet only stayed inside of you, hard and unmoving. 

"Beg." Jungkook's voice was stern practically ordering you what to do and you fucking loved it. You loved when he dominated over you, when you gave him all of you, your mind and body, he took care of you so well. You tried moving on his cock, lifting your hips to feel the thrusts that always make you scream but were denied once again.

You whined at the loss of pleasure, cheeks heating up as you muttered the next words, "Please Jungkook fuck me with you cock. Wanna cum again. Fill me with your hot cum, please." Your face felt hot at the dirty way you begged for his cock, begged him to give you the pleasure only he was capable of providing. Suddenly you felt him thrust himself into you hard, immediately finding and hitting your G-spot earning a loud moan like whine out of you, nails digging into his shoulders. 

You felt full, felt complete.

Jungkook didn't give you any time to adjust to his cock, thrusting deep inside you which made you yell out in delight. He never slowed down his thrusts only lifting his hips inside you in perfect rhythm, the head of his cock hitting your spot over and over again bringing you closer to another delightful release. His grunts and low moans were only fuel that made the experience of his relentless work that much better. You loved when he moaned, when he grunts in pleasure that he was receiving from you. 

"Fuck baby, so nice and tight for me." He nibbled on your ear, "Love fucking this pussy." His sultry voice whispered in your ear, he knew how weak you got when he spoke like that. He pulled your shirt up to your breasts, pulling the bra down to expose them for himself. He licked both nipples at first, but began sucking on the left one, squeezing and massaging the right one. You bit down on your lower lip at the excessive amount of euphoria you were experiencing. 

"Mmm...ah fhuck." Your words were broken, eyes closed tightly and mouth opening to let out whimpers and moans. You couldn't focus on anything but his sweet licks and sucks, his massaging and squeezing, his powerful thrusts which were bringing you closer to your second orgasm and closer to his orgasm as well. "Mmm Koo need cum." 

He detached himself from your sensitive nipples with a loud pop, there was a throaty chuckle from your boyfriend, "You need cum, hmm? Whose cum baby?" You whined at his teasing, nibbling your lip again, he knew what you needed yet he was being a little jerk about it. "Oh wait little one, did you mean you need to cum?" You could only nod in agreement as you started moving your hips to the rhythm of his movements. 

"Fucking - ngh shit - fucking cum for me again,” he moaned again, throwing his head back against the couch before telling you to look at him and locking eyes with you. “Cream around my cock babydoll, milk it dry." If you thought his thrusts were hard before they started being merciless now. Jungkook was chasing his own orgasm as well and every time he became sloppier and harder with his momentum. A particular harder push against your spot had you cumming around him.

“Jungkook!” You were screaming his name in pure bliss, pussy tightening and keeping his hard dick inside. You felt his cock twitch, the feeling of your tightness had him cumming deep inside you as well, filling your wet walls with his hot, white seed. “Mghm...fucking hell!” 

Jungkook slowed down, hugging you around the waist, burying his face in your soft breasts, panting heavily. His girthy cock was still inside you keeping all his cum where it belonged, as he would say. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried catching your breath, hair sticking to your foreheads as you moved his wet bangs from it, giving a quick kiss on top of it.

Jungkook cradled your face in his hands, giving loving kisses on your swollen lips. “I love you.” He mumbled giving you yet another kiss that had you smiling into it.

“And I love you.” 

Jungkook embraced you into his chest, laying down with you on top of him. “Do you plan on taking your dick out of me?” You ask with a giggle against his neck, placing a small kiss there. He hummed silently while locking his fingers in your hair, running through it gently.

“Just a little longer.”

You gave a silent noise in agreement, cuddling closer to him. You could feel his cock becoming softer inside, yet you didn’t really care, you always enjoyed being close to Jungkook like this. You knew you’d have to get up to clean yourselves, but you wanted to stay like this a little longer.

“So, how did that kink work out for you?” You ears felt hot at his simple question.

“It’s not a kink.” You tried to weakly defend yourself, fists curling into his tank top..

“Suuuuure.” Jungkook’s sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice.

You whined, “It’s not a kink, I swear!” 

Jungkook only laughed at your response.

[parkjiminiemouse]

Eyes

I’m going to be 100% honest, this is pretty fucking dark. I’ve never written anything like this before but I kind of like it. Plus it’s October so I thought why not? Please please please read the warning and proceed with caution!

Warnings: Gore, explicit language, fem reader (not specifically mentioned by heavily implied), cheating, murder, attack, implied homophobia

Please let me know if I missed anything

Not edited.

———————————————————————————

If I had the time to tell you all the fucked up things I’ve done throughout my lifetime, you would think I was the devil himself. To be fair, the people whose life I did fuck up deserved it. Though, there was this one man who started it all.

I remember that very night, I was sitting on the steps and I had met a man that was around my age, had red hair, and a beautiful singing voice. His name was Choi Jongho I would soon come to find out. When I tell you I was stupid enough to not just fall in love with him but to dedicate my heart, mind, body, and soul to this very man, it was the worst yet best mistake I had ever made. Sometimes I thank Jongho, he made me into the person I am today, the very best me I could possibly be.

Anyways, he was just, amazing in every sense of the word. I distinctly remember laying in bed with him for the first time, our legs tangled as a small giggle escapes my plump lips. He had the softest brown eyes and they held millions of stars in them. His soft hands caressed my cheek, a hint of a smile on his face as he finally whispered the words I longed to hear, “I love you.”

When he said that, his fate had been sealed. I didn’t know it at the time nor did Jongho but those words would be the very reason why he was murdered, love. When people said love can make someone do crazy things I didn’t believe them one bit, they were making things up, right?

It was one of those quiet nights again, laying beside Jongho as he looked at me with starstruck eyes. My heart swelled in my chest, a soft blush appearing on my cheeks as he whispered sweet nothings into my ear. Opening my mouth to speak I was quickly interrupted by his phone ringing. A frown soon replaced the soft smile that was once placed upon my face as he sat up and answered it. The warmth of the moment fading as quickly as it came.

He left moments later and what was once blissful silence had now turned into bitter silence. He had been leaving very often lately and I had grown curious so naturally I followed after him. What I found was a sight that broke my heart but to this day, fuels my anger. The soft lips that once kissed mine were now meeting someone else’s, a male. A gasp escaped my lips which caught their attention, tears streamed down my face as I watched a look of terror fill both of their eyes. I was being used, I was being toyed with, I wasn’t about to allow myself to continue being the puppet, I wanted to pull the strings.

So that’s what I did, I had him wrapped around my finger, dangling the information I very much knew would ruin his whole career. Now, it’s widely accepted, soft of, but back then, back when we had first met, coming out wasn’t welcomed. Did I mention that I liked to record just about every moment in my life? No? Well I guess now would be a good time to mention that I got their little, dirty, make out session on camera. Oh and don’t forget the look of terror in his eyes. Every time I see the video it makes me laugh, that look, I love it, every second of it.

“Please…” small whimpers escaped his chapped lips as he begged me to delete the video. “Please please please! I’ll do anything!” He yelled as my fingers hovered over the post button. A devious smirk on my face, seeing him this way filled me with joy, but it also made me sick, I still wasn’t used to being so cruel especially to a man I still loved deeply. Turning the phone off I give him a quick peck on the lips before smiling. “Good boy.”

Ah, the night I remember vividly now has its time to shine in this little story of mine. I remember the night perfectly, it was pitch black only a street light illuminating the sidewalk only a few feet in front of me. I was walking towards my car, phone in hand, rewatching the video that had started it all. Reaching for my keys my mouth is swiftly covered as strong arms wrap around me. Struggling, I tried my best to escape from their grasp when I saw Jongho. A part of me felt an immense amount of dread fill my body. I had been blackmailing him for months, using him for my own pleasure, he wasn’t here to save me, he was here to ruin me. The person holding me back was none other than his little slut.

He spit in my face before he grabs my phone and smashes it on the ground. I continue to struggle but I feel a sharp pain overcome my body. Everything had happened so fast, I felt warm blood stream down my face as my vision turned pitch black. A scream escapes my lips as I’m let go, left on the ground, the sound of footsteps fading in the distance.

When I woke up I still couldn’t see. It took me a moment to realize what had happened, the reality had just sunk in. Reaching up to rub my eyes I find that there’s nothing there, just empty hallow holes where my eyes should be. A blood curling scream escapes my cracked, dry lips as I heard the door open.

“My eyes! My eyes! Where are they?!” I scream, trashing around as what I assumed were nurses attempt to hold me down.

“Calm down!” A man yells and while the yelling should’ve alarmed me it seemed to bring me comfort. Slowly I took deep breaths and started to calm down. “There’s nothing to worry about. You still have your eyes.” A wave of relief overcame my body as he placed a jar in my hands. My eyebrows furrow and he must’ve seen my expression before he adds, “they’re in your hands.”

So you see, I had a clear motive to kill Choi Jongho and that slut he replaced me with. To be honest, I shouldve savored their death more but it’s alright. To cut this long story short, (I know you’re probably feeling quite impatient) I carved his eyes out along with his precious lovers once I got my hands on them. His sweet sweet screams filled the soundproofed basement as I placed his eyes into my empty sockets. Now, I can’t exactly see but that’s because I don’t have the perfect fit yet. My next victim though, Kang Yeosang. His eyes are beautiful, I hope they’ll fit just right.

[gemswrites]

Kenma wanting attention

Summary: Reader is busy and Kenma craves their attention

Kenma had been playing video games for a while. 

On normal circumstances, there wouldn’t anything else worth his time to do, but when his reasoning for playing was to distract himself from your absence to how busy you were, and how little attention you were able to spare him, the usual good feeling that came with his Switch just wasn’t there.

A small puff of air passed his lips as he flicked the console off, flopping down onto your bed with a small frown gracing the features you would always compliment, telling him how pretty he was.

You were usually an extremely attentive and affectionate partner, he knew that. It wasn’t like this was a normal occurrence, and it certainly was not the case that you often left him feeling neglected. In fact, he thought you were the needy one; you always doted on him, cuddling him and showering him with attention.

Was he so used to your company that you being busy left him feeling so utterly lonely? He thought that he found your affections borderline smothering; when did he become so reliant? Why was he upset by the fact you were busy?

(You had come home from your job (which he had told you many times that you didn’t need because he could pay for everything) with some left over paperwork to do. That was fine, it really was, but he distinctly remembers you telling him it wouldn’t take you long, which it most definitely was)

He doesn’t remember when he became so needy.

He closed his eyes, allowing thoughts of you to fill his mind. Thoughts of you holding him close, your delicious, velvety scent swathing him like a spell, just your sweet smell enough to make him fall in love with you all over again. The way your soft lips spoke beautiful words to him, filling his heart with all the love you have for him, and how your warm breath on his neck reminded him that you were so alive and you were right there next to him.

But oh - god forbid he forgets - your eyes. They held all the words that would go unspoken: words of kindness and sentiment, so strong. They looked at him holding all of the care and admiration humanly possible: innocent, unadulterated love for him. They glimmered with all the virtues of the stars in the sky: simply bewitching.

He sighed, sitting up and stretching his shoulders; his body ached with a dull throb of need to be held by you.

He couldn’t just wait anymore.

His bare feet padded quietly on the hard wood of your shared apartment, his legs carried him to the study, where you currently sat on the other side of a closed door, diligently working on whatever evil work was keeping you so late.

If it hadn’t been completely silent in the room (save for the scratching of your pen on paper, and the occasional rustling of you turning a page), you wouldn’t have heard the gentle knock on your door, coming from your partner on the other side

Your lips turned up in a smile: so gentle like the man himself,

“Yeah Ken?” you called out to him, not taking your focus off of the paper in front of you for a second. The only thing you could think off was finishing your work so you could finally curl up in bed and let sleep swallow you whole.

He quietly opened the door, stepping in ever so slightly, but not close enough to enter your bubble of concentrations, the beautiful eyes he loved so much not even lifting to spare him a glance.

He wasn’t sure why he took it to heart, but it hurt,

“Are you almost done?” he asked, watching your hunched figure scribbling down numbers and god-knows what else. You threw him a look over your shoulder, catching his rich, golden eyes in the smallest of stares,

“Um, almost?” you spoke, more as a question, telling him what he needed to know - you were no where near done. He sighed,

“Oh, okay. Do you need anything?” He responded. His voice was coloured with dejection and his face was sour, but he hadn’t expected you to pick up on it; above all he was good at hiding his emotions. And yet you finally spun around in your chair, facing him with a look of concern at his tone. Your eyes scanned his face, taking in the man you fell in love with.

You knew him too well,

“Is everything okay?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. Your gaze was intense and he almost had to look away, and he would’ve if he wasn’t desperately revelling in the fraction of attention you had to spare him, “What’s wrong?”

You were busy, he didn’t want to disturb you, but he also couldn’t lie. So, ever so shyly, his cheeks flushed,

“You’ve been working for a while, I miss your company,” he said.

You were taken aback. 

Kenma, the one who pushed your head away when you’re giving him too much attention, Kenma, the one who complains and whinges when you cling to him too much, misses your company? 

The noise that passed your lips was unintelligible (some sort of happiness noise, he presumed.) You jumped up out of your spinney chair and bounded up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his head flush against chest, rocking him back and forth and once again enveloping him in your honeyed smell,

“Awwwh Pudding! So you do love me after all?” you cooed, running your hand through his soft hair, still rocking him happily. He would’ve smiled, if he could,

“I can’t breath [Name],” he said simply, making you giggle as you let him escape from your embrace, admiring the small smile that graced his features,

“Sorry Ken!” You chirped, cradling his face in your palms, placing a small kiss to the tip of his nose, “I just can’t help it!”

“It’s okay,” He said softly, just content with the attention you were showing him, happy things were back to normal, even if for a moment. You beamed at him, your happiness radiating off of you like ray of sun,

“You-” a kiss on the nose, “are-” a kiss on the forehead, “just-” a kiss on the left cheek, “so-” a kiss on the right cheek, “cute!” You finished with a tender kiss on his lips, longer than the others. He couldn’t even find it in himself to complain like he usually did: this was what he wanted anyway,

“I love you [Name]” He said softly after you pulled away, his golden eyes staring lovingly into your own, a small smile playing on his lips. You smiled even wider, running your hands down his shoulders and arms to slip your hands into his pretty setter ones. His thumbs immediately drew small, soothing shapes on the backs of your hands as soon as you held onto him firmly. It was his own love language, 

“I love you more, Kenma,” You said cheekily with a grin. But it soon fell, regarding him with slight guilt, “I’m sorry I made you feel lonely,” You apologised quietly, and although he knew you really shouldn’t need to apologise, the absolute sincerity in your voice made him feel like it would be an insult not to accept it. He squeezed your hands,

“It’s okay, you don’t need to apologise, you’re busy.”

“Hmm yeah, I am,” You said thoughtfully, eyes glossing with thought for a moment, before snapping back with a smile, “But my work can wait! How about we make some apple pie to make up for poor baby’s lack of attention today?” You teased, pinching his cheek and pulling at it.

He swotted your hand away in annoyance (there was the Kenma you knew) but it didn’t stop his eyes lighting up at the prospect of his favourite food, and you knew he couldn’t resist.

And so you dragged him to the kitchen, hands still linked, and the two of you spent the rest of the evening attempting (very poorly) to make apple pie, a night filled with loving touches and doting that was, for once, not pushed away.

Bonus:

“Why do you look so tired?” Kenma questioned the next morning, and you rolled your eyes,

“Gee, thanks for the confidence boost, Ken,” You responded sarcastically, avoiding the question, poking at your breakfast with your fork. He frowned,

“Don’t dodge the question,” He commanded, staring with a sharp cat-like gaze that made you trip over your words,

“W-w-w-well I wanted to finish my work! So that I’d have all of today to spend with you,” you answered, quieter than usual, and this time it was his turn to coo,

“You’re just so cute,” he replied, mocking your words from the night before with a flick of your forehead, “And stupid.”

“H-Hey!”

“We’re napping today, you need to sleep,”

AN: I hope you enjoyed, I really enjoyed writing, even though I think I sort of screwed up his character lol! Let me know if there are any mistakes :) 

[stressisakiller]

Who Said Revenge is Easy?

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 4)

Summary:  You have a plan to defeat Hydra but when does anything ever go according to plan?  Your soul mark appears on your 18th birthday. What do you do when your father is a part of Hydra and your soul mark binds you to the Winter Soldier.

Prompt:  "I don’t know whether to kiss you or throw you off a building right now."

Warnings: Violence? Death? A couple of F-bombs

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Alrighty time to fight Hydra. Also I promise that there will be a lot of fluff and that they will get to spend some time together when they aren’t in danger. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future parts. 

Rewritten 2/17

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There are moments in everyone's life where they wonder how the hell they got into the situation they are in. You, it just so happens, have this thought at least once every two or so weeks. This was that moment, falling from who knows what story of the shield building while being shot at from above. As the wind rushed through your ears as you free fell, you can’t think of a similar scene from a movie that you watched at the Avenger’s tower, Megamind. Sadly you don’t have a gun that will dehydrate you until you hit the water. No, you just have your stupid super strength and the hope that your soldier won’t be too mad at you if you don’t make it out of this. Your careening thoughts are brought to an abrupt end as you are grabbed out of the air by a distinctly metal arm. You’re ripped out of your fall and into the arms of your soldier. Confused you look around and see that he had somehow commandeered a helicopter and pilot. You don’t have time to think about how mad you are at him for coming or how fucked you are once he catches his breath before he pulls back and yells at you. 

The first words out of your devastatingly handsome soulmate’s mouth after saving your life are not how happy he is he was there to save you or how much he already loves you. No the first words out of his mouth are the ever Bucky-like words

 "I don’t know whether to kiss you or throw you off a building right now." You decided not to comment on how counterproductive it would be for him to push you off a building after saving you from that exact fate. Instead, you looked up at him a little dazed after your near death experience and brazenly said 

"if you don’t kiss me right fucking now, I'll push you off a building." You could see the smile he was fighting to hide before he slammed his lips to yours and all you could think was how right kissing him felt. You mentally scolded yourself for not kissing him properly before you left. You made a mental promise that you would give him a proper kiss wherever you had to separate, you refused to live with regret if something were to happen before you saw each other again. You were breathless as he pulled away, wishing that the moment didn’t have to end. But the helicopter was touching down and there were other places that you were needed. As soon as the helicopter touched the ground you grabbed Bucky’s arm pulling him along with you as you ran back towards the building you just fell out of. The roaring of the helicarrier engines was deafening as you entered the building. You prayed that Steve was on one of them so that he could disable them. There was nothing you could do about them now, you thought running full tilt through the lobby and to the elevators. You needed to help Nat take care of Hydra. You waited impatiently in the elevator as it made its way to the top floor. Bucky putting his hand on your shoulder to remind you that you were not alone. The bell dinged informing you, that you had reached your destination. You looked over your shoulder at Bucky, his eyes met yours and he nodded, you could do this. You rushed into Fury’s office, Bucky hot on your tail, in time to see all of the helicarries firing on each other and exploding in the background. Your attention was immediately diverted from the windows to the sight of Pierce leading Natasha towards you and the door while holding a phone. You couldn’t really understand why a phone was enough to make her do what he wanted, but you didn’t have time to ponder that before you were noticed. Pierce looked up from the phone in his hand, eyes skipping over you and landing on Bucky. The smile that crossed his lips at the sight of his soldier walking through the door made your skin crawl. The sure way he held himself as if he knew that he had won, made you want to shoot him.

 “Ah, Soldat, I’m so glad you came back and brought the traitor with you as well.” he congratulated, you felt Bucky tense at his words, knowing that if Pierce realized he wasn’t under Hydra control things would go south quickly. He gave a stiff nod to Pierce grabbing your arm as you spat out insults at the man in front of you.

 “I’m sure,” he continued while ignoring you, “That her father will be very excited to have her back safe. He has had ample time to discover new ways to get her back under control. I distinctly remember him mentioning something about a new experiment that he wanted to try on her.” At the mention of your father, you felt the blood drain out of your face, and at the same time you saw red. Breaking out of Bucky’s grip you watched as Natasha pushed a button, electrocuting herself. Weird, you thought but you didn’t have time to wonder what exactly that accomplished before you were pulling your gun out from behind you. Eyes widening as you heard Pierce say the first word “Longing”. You felt rather than saw Bucky tense up behind you, weapon falling to the ground. Pierce’s voice was cut off mid word by the bullet you fired into his skull. He had barely got out the first syllable of the second word before he fell to the ground, dead. You barely registered Fury running over to check on Natasha, you were too focused on Bucky. You spun to look at him as soon as you pulled the trigger. His eyes were glassy, staring forward unfocused. His body was frozen, every muscle pulled tight. You placed your gun back in its holster, moving slowly, knowing that any fast moment would be seen as a threat. Creeping forward you gently reached for one of his trembling hands. His eyes snapped to you as soon as your fingers brushed his skin, a flicker of recognition flashing across them before they went back to glassy and unfocused. You took one last slow step, until you were inches from him, observing the way his muscles tensed even more at your proximity, eyes narrowing as he decided if you were friend of foe. You held his gaze, unflinching as you softly began to speak. 

“Hello Sunflower,” you whispered watching his eyes widen at the words, seeming to focus on your face for a moment. You started again, changing it up just a little bit. “Hello Bucky, my sunflower, the sun is up, your dreaming is done,” you spoke quietly tilting your head to the side, gauging his reaction to the words.

 A sigh of relief passed your lips as his eyes lost their glassiness, wondering from your face to your hands and back again. His body started to relax, until the realization of what could have happened caused fear to take over. He started to tremble, his mind started to race, he could have hurt you, hell he could have killed you and there was nothing he could have done to stop himself. He pulled his hand from yours, head falling in shame and defeat. You knew the thoughts that were running through his head and you couldn’t allow them to continue. Lifting one of your hands you gently placed it on his cheek, tilting your heads until your foreheads touched. Taking a deep breath you licked your lips before softly speaking,

 “Bucky, I need you to listen to me and hear the words I am about to say.” you paused allowing him to process your voice. “I want you to know that no matter what you could never hurt me. You have had years of fighting with me to hurt me and you never have. Not even when you were fully under their control, you have always, in some way, known that you have to protect me. I trust you with every fiber of my being and I can’t stand seeing you doubt yourself.” you could feel the turmoil rolling off of him, the set of his shoulders and lock of his jaw giving his emotions away. Reaching up with your other hand you gently tilted his head so that his eye met yours. Though all of his fear and regret he looked you in the eyes, his shoulders dropping when couldn’t find an ounce of fear or trepidation. He is your soldier, your sunflower, your soulmate and in your eyes he would never be anything else. You quickly smiled at him, giving him a peck on the lips before turning to look at Fury.

 “You didn’t see us. We were never here. Delete any video footage you have of us.” You stated leaving no room for argument. “We will be going somewhere to lie low, out of Hydra’s radar. After and only after you are able to assure us that Hydra is no longer a part of Shield will we consider coming back. Even then we will not be a part of Shield, we will be a part of the Avengers, we are done being used as weapons by your organization. I’m sure you can understand our hesitance in trusting Shield after this.” You paused to take a breath, gauging his reaction to your words, when he didn’t interrupt you continued. “I will leave a way to contact us with Steve. Only use it if it is absolutely imperative for us to be involved. Understood?” You saw the edge of Fury’s lip quirk up at your tone before he nodded speaking in an equally firm tone. 

“With all of Shield and Hydra’s files now out on the internet there will be a trial and we will need you there.” You closed your eyes for a second breathing in before replying,

“Understood, but you must understand that I refuse for either of us to go to jail for things that we had no choice in, and I will say such to a jury.”

 He sighed, shaking his head, 

“I don’t want that either but I want you to be prepared for the storm that is coming your way. We will do whatever we can to help but I can’t guarantee anything. Although it may be easier to convince them of your change in heart if you were seen as a part of the Avengers.” 

You glanced over at Bucky, you could tell that he wasn’t crazy about the idea but the tilt of his head at your gaze assured you that if it came to it he would do anything necessary. 

“We understand, now we need to leave before anyone can stop us,” you stated, “If you find any information pertaining to my father I would appreciate it if you could send it my way via our mutual acquaintance.” You didn’t wait for his reply before you and Bucky were on your way out of the building. It didn’t take long for you to escape the building, only having to stop a couple of times to hide from any prying eyes. As you made it outside you saw Sam running towards you,

 “Cap is hurt, he needs a hospital.” he called out as he neared you. You glanced at Bucky before rushing towards Sam and shouting for him to lead the way. When you got to Steve you could tell that he wasn’t doing great. You looked towards Sam, 

“Normally I would say that I could take care of it but I always had the doctors at Hydra double check once we got back to base. I need you to get him to the hospital, Bucky and I can’t be seen in public right now or we would go with you. We will find a new place to stay, and send word to Steve so that he will know how to find us when it's safe.” You clasped his shoulder, “Thank you for taking care of him, it means the world to both of us. You were a huge help and I’m not sure we would have succeeded without you.”

 He looked between the two of you, “The feeling is mutual, even if he is a pain in the ass, and tried to kill me on that bridge.” He said while motioning at Bucky. You shrugged 

“Well we can’t all be angels like Cap.” you looked down at Steve the worry that you were feeling obvious on your face. You felt Bucky place his hand in yours,

 “Take care of him Sam, He’s family.” you heard Bucky say from behind you. You squeezed his hand at the words before nodding and blinking the tears out of your eyes. You gave one last look at him before you felt Bucky tugging on your hand, you had stayed too long already, you needed to leave. You turned away and the two of you headed to your safe house to gather supplies. You would have to be quick, you needed to leave the city and get as far away as you could that night. You looked towards Bucky as you ran, you would be alright, hydra may not be completely dead quite yet but it would take them time to regroup, time that you could use to lay low. The storm was coming, and when it came you would be ready to face it head on.

[apriorisea]

Hiii~ sorry to bother you, i dont know if you're still taking request but can you write something where the reader had to turn down a job she really wanted and member (joon, hoseok or yoongi) comforts her? Ps you're my fav blog please keep writing💕

Hi! You’re not bothering at all~ Thank you so much for the request, and the feedback! You’re so, so sweet! It really means a lot. Here’s my take on the scenario, I hope you enjoy!! 💜💕

“Whatever You Want” Namjoon x You

“Okay.” You release a deep breath and turn to face Namjoon. “How do I look?”      He sits up a little, pretending to scrutinize your appearance before the grin breaks across his face. “Perfect,” he says. Then, suddenly frowning, he scoots to the edge of the bed and adds, “Except...come here, babe.”      “What?” you ask nervously, reaching up to smooth your hair. “What is it?” You move towards him when he doesn’t answer.       “Just...” He waits until you’re within his reach, then grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap. Smiling at your startled laughter, he says, “Just this...” before leaning in to kiss you softly.       When he finally releases you, you give him a look. “Namjoon, I love you---but if you just messed up my hair, I’m going to have to kill you.”     He laughs. “Fair enough. All right, up you get.” He stands up after you. “Let’s make sure you’re still perfect as ever.”      You roll your eyes at his comment, but when he runs his gaze over you, purposefully slow, you can’t stop your heart from beating a little louder. “Well?”      “As I said,” he grins, bending down to place a soft, gentle kiss on your cheek: “Absolutely perfect.”      Ignoring the blush that creeps over your face, you give him a sincere smile. “Thanks. Ugh, I’m so nervous.”     He reaches out and takes your hand, guiding you out of the bedroom and down the hall. “Don’t think about that,” he says. “Just soak it all in. You’ve worked hard for this, my love; you deserve all the good things. Did you eat lunch?”      You shake your head.      “Do you want me to make you something?”      You shake your head again, feeling sick.       “Okay, okay.” He squeezes your hand. “Just relax.” Releasing your hand, he grabs your long, black peacoat and helps you into it, careful not to disturb your perfectly planned outfit. “They’re going to love you.”      “As much as you love me?” you ask playfully.      He fakes outraged shock. “Never.” Grabbing the lapels of your coat, he pulls you to him slowly. “I just love you too much,” he murmurs, before brushing another kiss against your lips.       This time when he releases you, you’re ready to go. “Okay.” You exhale again, turning towards the door. “Wish me luck.”      “You don’t need it. You’ve got this, babe. It’s all yours, whatever you want.”      You smile. “See you tonight.”

The first thing you notice when you enter the office is the impossibly immaculate marble flooring.       The receptionist, a woman about your age, looks up and smiles brightly. “Good afternoon. May I help you?”     “Y-yes.” You clear your throat and try again. “Yes, thank you.” Handing her the paperwork (and making sure to keep your hand from shaking) you add, “I have an appointment?”      She studies the paperwork for just a moment, and you see her eyes widen at something. “Oh you---you’re here for the new position.”      “Yes.” It still filled you with giddy excitement: this was literally your dream job, a perfect position to reward all the work you had put in, the menial internships and starter jobs that had led you to this point. You almost don’t notice it when her face falls a little.       “Of course. One moment, please.” She opens her mouth like she wants to say something else before changing her mind. Grabbing the phone instead, she dials a few numbers then says into the receiver: “Yes, your afternoon appointment is here.” She listens, then hangs up. “If you wait just a moment, someone will take you back to the offices.”      You nod eagerly. “Thank you so much.”       She merely smiles, and an unsteady silence falls over you.       “The floors in this building are just gorgeous,” you say after a minute, trying to dispel the awkwardness and distract yourself from your own nerves at the same time.     “Oh, yes,” she agrees. “They’re the very best, top of the line. We only have the best here.”      You smile, even though her response doesn’t really invite much conversation. “How long have you worked here?”      “Six years.”      “Six--?” You cut yourself off. “Oh. That’s...that’s great. You must really like it here.” To yourself, you think: 6 years as an entry-level receptionist??       She doesn’t really answer.       The awkward silence falls again.       Finally, a door behind you opens and another woman (this one several years older than you) steps into the waiting area. “Hello,” she says with a practiced smile. “I’ll take you back now to meet with the boss.”      “Great.” You turn to the receptionist, but find her already engrossed in another matter. Uncomfortably, you take a quiet deep breath and cross to where the other woman stands. “Thank you so much.”      She just nods pleasantly, ushering you through the door.       The first thing you notice when you enter the work floor is that you are surrounded by men. Every single desk, every cubicle, is occupied by a man. The second thing you notice is that they all look the same; a sea of the same skin color, haircut, and expression.      Somewhere deep down in your stomach, a tiny pit appears. To distract yourself, you catch the attention of your guide. “How long have you worked here?” you ask, trying to keep a pleasant smile on your face.      “12 years.”     “Oh, wow. That’s great.”     She just nods. “I saw your resume,” she adds. “I graduated from the same university.”      “Really??” Some of the pit recedes. “What was your major?”     “Same as yours,” she says with a little tip of her head.      The pit whimpers. “Oh, that’s...that’s really cool,” you say falteringly.      She nods again. “I’m certain it’s changed since I was there,” she adds with a laugh. “It has been quite a while.”      “I---” The words die on your tongue as you distinctly hear someone call out “Damn, that’s some nice fresh meat” from behind you. Turning sharply, you’re unable to tell which cubicle the comment came from. You look back at your guide and are shocked to see her completely unaffected. Maybe she didn’t hear it... “They are constantly renovating it,” you agree belatedly.     Finally, the two of you reach the boss’ office. Without another word, the other woman reaches up and knocks three times on the door.      “Enter!” a voice calls from inside.     She pulls the door open and ushers you inside the office, where you find yet another man sitting at a desk. “Your 3:15, sir,” she says respectfully.      For the second time that day, a pair of eyes wander up and down your frame, but this time you just feel sick. “Ah,” the boss says with a smile. “Lovely. Come on in, doll, have a seat.”      You clear your throat and correct him with your name, trying to remain as polite and calm as you can.       His smile never wavers, but he ignores your correction and turns away from you to regard the other woman. “So, is the coffee-maker located in a different city, or...?”      She blushes deep crimson and nods her head awkwardly. “It’s coming, sir. Very sorry about that.”      “Don’t be sorry, just bring the coffee,” he says a little dismissively. “And better add a few muffins, don’t you think, doll?”      “Yes, sir. Of course.”      He waves her away. “Go on.”      The pit has swallowed your entire stomach and is now screaming.       “So.....” The boss fixes his gaze on you, and you resist the urge to squirm uncomfortably. “I assume you’re familiar with our company?”      “Yes.” You try to ignore the pit, but it’s getting more difficult by the second. “Of course. I was thrilled, actually, to be offered a position here. It fits exactly what I’m looking for, and I think I can be a great asset to the team.”      He huffs a soft laugh. “Yes,” he agrees, “A great asset, indeed.”      “I’m sorry??”      Waving it away, he goes on, “Now doll---”      “My name isn’t doll.”      The faux-cheeriness falls away quickly. “Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he says derisively. “It’s just a term of endearment. Think of it like a compliment.”      Your mouth actually falls open at this one. “A--a compliment?”      “Yep. See, doll, we have a system here, an organic sort of environment where people go with the flow.” His eyes harden. “If you manage to remember your place within that environment, you’ll be just fine.”      You straighten in your chair. “It is highly unprofessional for you to address me in that way,” you say stiffly. “I believe I’ve already made my opinion on that clear.” You brace yourself for his angry retort.       Instead, he laughs in your face. Literally leans forward in his chair and guffaws at you. “Your opinion?? You think I’m hiring you for your opinion? Please.”      Your cheeks are hot. “Then what, exactly, did you hire me for?”      “Gotta fill a quota,” he shrugs, leaning back in his chair and leering at you again. “And that old hag out there clearly couldn’t cut it even as a waitress, so it’s time for her to go. One out, one in. By the way, do you know how to make espresso?”      “No,” you answer tightly, feeling the rage build inside you.      “Better learn, then, dollface,” he says with a wink. “Your looks are only 50% of why you’re here. Well, then.” He sits forward, shoving a stack of looseleaf papers in your direction. “Sign on the dotted line, look up a few coffee how-to videos tonight, and come ready to smile tomorrow morning, all right?” He literally pushes the contract into your hands. When you don’t respond, he finally seems to notice your seething anger. The pleasant facade fades. “Problem, dollface?” he asks intently, watching you. Before you can speak, he heaves a dramatic sigh and goes on, “Think carefully before you answer, sweet cheeks. You know how prestigious our company is. Don’t miss out on an opportunity just because of a little girlish pride.” He rolls a pen at you. “I’ll even let you use my expensive pen. Got this from the president himself. Go on, sign your name.”      You’re so angry you’re shaking, but you reach out and take the pen; you notice that it’s extremely high quality, carefully engraved with fancy lettering. It must have cost a lot. “My name,” you ask, your voice so quiet he has to lean forward to hear, “Or dollface?”      He guffaws again, but it’s cut short in surprise when you rocket to your feet.       “You’re disgusting,” you say, rage clipping your words. A million other insults are racing through your mind, but in the end you choose no words: instead, you drop the stack of papers back on the desk and spin on your heel, heading for the door. Yanking it open, you turn back: “To hell with you and your company,” you say, then hold his pen aloft---and promptly drop it in the trash.       Before he can speak, the other woman reappears, a mug of coffee and plate of muffins in hand. She takes one look at how your hands are shaking with fury, and instead of looking shocked or alarmed, she looks resigned. It only makes you angrier.       So in one smooth motion, you take the mug of coffee from her and carefully, deliberately, pour it into the trash.      “Hey! You crazy bitch---that’s my pen!!”       His outcry soothes some of your rage, and for the first time, you’re able to smile. Turning to the woman, you nod your head at the plate of food and say, “I’d throw those muffins in there, too, if I were you.”      Without another word, you leave the office, head held high all the way down to your car. As soon as you shut and lock the doors, you’re able to fully feel what the pit of fury has been covering: heartbreak.

As soon as you open the door to the apartment, you can smell it: pizza, from your favorite restaurant. No matter how good it smells, it can’t break through your layers of fury.     “Hail the conquering hero!” Namjoon sings out as he pops into view; in one hand he has a bouquet of daisies (your favorite) and in the other he’s holding a box of your favorite brand of expensive chocolates. “Welcome home, babe!”     You’re speechless. A quick scan of the room reveals the rest of his plans: the table is set with 2 boxes of your favorite pizza, the TV is on and your guys’ favorite video game is loaded, the controllers waiting on the empty couch. He had clearly planned a celebration of your “accomplishment.”       You can’t help it: the angry tears clog your throat, burning your eyes and spilling down your cheeks.       “Babe...” He looks shocked. Quickly ridding himself of the flowers and the chocolates, he goes to you. Taking your face in his hands, he says, “What happened??”      “I’m not going to work there,” you say hotly, tears still streaming down your face.       Fear is starting to mix with his concern. “What happened? Are you okay? Did---”      “I’m okay,” you manage. Carefully moving out of his grasp, you step all the way into the apartment, shrugging out of your coat and dropping it on the floor. “But that company---they’re just---”      Sensing how absolutely wild you feel, he changes tactics: grabbing your hand, he pulls you to the couch and sits down with you, turning towards you. “Tell me.”     So you do. You tell him everything, from the uncomfortable atmosphere and whispered catcall to the words ‘dollface’ and ‘sweet cheeks.’ You tell him about the way the man had spoken to you, his open admission about your position, the suggestive way he had looked at you. “How can a company like that still exist??? And those women, they--” you choke on a sob. “The one woman was exactly like me. She graduated with the same degree from the same university, and he turned her into a coffee-girl. I can’t believe I ever wanted to work for them! I hope their building catches fire, I hope both of those ladies quit, I hope he gets hit by a bus, I---” Your anger can’t even find words anymore. “It was disgusting. I should have--should have thrown that coffee in his face or-or something.” You suddenly realize that your boyfriend hasn’t said a word the entire time. Angrily wiping at your eyes, you turn to look at him; and find him absolutely livid. “...Joon?”      “I’m going to end him,” he growls. “I’m going to burn that entire place to the ground.”      “Baby---”      He gets to his feet suddenly. “I’ll make sure he loses everything, make sure the entire country knows the truth about that place.” He starts pacing, his mind racing in a thousand different directions. “The lawsuit will be easy---I’ll make sure both of those other women are compensated extremely well, I’ll make sure that he has to apologize to both of them---no, grovel at their feet and apologize!”       You sit back on the couch, watching him rant and rave; it makes you feel better, actually, to not sit alone in this fury.       “And you....I’m so sorry, babe, that you had to go through something like that.” His hands clench into fists. “I’m going to kill him for what he said to you, the way he treated you. I should’ve gone there with you, I would’ve knocked that smug smile off his face immediately.” He goes on, detailing all the ways he can bring the company down, the ways he’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. He goes on and on until the anger burns out.      And by the end of it, your anger’s been doused, too. Now all you can feel is the heartache. My dream job...what I’ve worked so hard for.. The tears bubble up again, this time in devastation instead of fury.      Noticing the change, he exhales heavily and returns to your side. Gathering you in his lap, he rocks you back and forth, pressing constant kisses to your temple and cheeks. “Oh my love,” he says heavily, “I’m so, so sorry.”      “I wanted it, Joon,” you admit tearfully. “I wanted that job so bad. Why did it have to be like this?”     “I know. It’s not fair.” He holds you close. “Oh, love, I wish I could have spared you from this. I wish I could fix it and make it all go away.”     You turn your face towards him, burying it in his neck, and sob.       The breakdown only lasts a few minutes, but the entire time he hugs you tight, reminding you that you weren’t alone. When you finally take a breath, he kisses your forehead.       “It’s going to be okay. An even better job will come. I know everything sucks right now, but it’s going to get better. Something amazing is coming your way, love, I know it is.” He kisses your temple and murmurs against your hair, “You deserve something better than that place anyway. You’re going to do amazing things. Something better will come.”      You take another deep breath and sit up, rubbing at your eyes. “I hope so,” you say thickly.       “It will.”      Managing a smile, you lean forward and kiss him briefly. “Thanks, Joonie,” you say softly, feeling much lighter. Your eyes dart to the discarded flowers and chocolates. “I feel bad I ruined the celebration...”      He shakes his head, squeezing you tight. “You didn’t ruin anything.” A faint smile crosses his lips. “How about....instead of pizza and video games, we do.....pizza and a bubblebath??”      You laugh.      He smiles happily at the sound. “I’m serious. How does that sound, my love?”       “Hmm...pizza in the bath?” You pretend to think. “Amazing.”      “Perfect, right?”      “Almost.” You get to your feet and hold a hand out to him, waiting. “But perfect actually is pizza and you in the bath.”      He grins and takes your hand, getting to his feet quickly. “Like I said: whatever you want, baby.” 

[thegamecollection]

A SERIES IN ITS PRIME, THROUGH TIME...

Strap yourselves in. This could be a little lengthy.

When my favourite video game series gets love like this, I can’t help but smile. The hours of joy in my 31 years on this planet that Samus has given me will never be topped. Ever. I’m that confident there will never be another that does for me what Metroid has accomplished.

My reason for this blog is to celebrate the life of Samus through her side-scrolling cycle, but mainly - the way this video has been cut and put together looks unbelievably cool and needs to be talked about.

Born in 1990, it’s mad to think that its 3 years prior to my arrival on Earth that Samus’ first mission took place. 1987′s Metroid on the NES gave us a look around Planet Zebes for the first time, and our original showdown with Mother Brain. Seeing my favourite game ever in its earliest form, with familiar settings and enemies present, almost feels like someone showing me photos from a family album. The foundations were laid beautifully!

On we go to 1991. Sadly I’m still not able to walk or talk at this point in the timeline, and playing Metroid II: Return of Samus on the Game Boy was a little out of the question. However, having gone back to it later in life - Planet SR388 showed that you didn’t need a colour screen to deliver an epic entry. It’s also where she locates the last metroid, and sets the tone for what is to me, the greatest game ever made.

“Against all odds, a hatchling Metroid survives and bonds with Samus...”

This is where s**t gets real! As a five year old on Christmas morning (1995ish?) unwrapping a SNES console, it was initially far easier for me to be distracted by the Super Mario All-Stars box rather than the separately packed Super Metroid. What can I say, I love Mario.

I distinctly remember my Dad setting it up and diving straight in... To Super Metroid that is. I recall watching the first battle between Samus and Ridley at the Ceres Station, the fear when the door behind him changed from blue to grey... The orange eye first appearing on the screen before the skeletal figure emerged and attacked. There’s no way this game was playable to me at that age - but the memories of watching my Dad explore it for hours, moving from area to area, beating bosses and collecting items, it’s where my affection for this game came into its own.

Getting a little older and lets face it, better at gaming - Going back and completing it for the first time was an amazing feeling. Although if you’ve played it yourself then you’ll know that successfully navigating that submerged hell-hole called Maridia for the first time, felt equally as rewarding!

“With the space pirates defeated again, Planet Zebes is destroyed...”

Fast forward to 2002 and Samus’ next mission appears on none other than the Game Boy Advance. I’ll hold my hands up here and say that I didn’t play Metroid Fusion until perhaps 2016? Having had a quick go on a friend’s 3DS, I immediately went home and purchased on my Wii U from the Nintendo store. Facing off with the X-Parasite and its ability to mimic any organism (including our favourite bounty hunter - SA-X) was a new spin with an old favourite. Loved it.

Of course after this successful mission we thought that the X-Parasite was destroyed. At least, until a new and mysterious transmission to our Nintendo Switch consoles suggests otherwise...

Here we arrive at the recently launched Metroid Dread. Man, has it been worth the wait. Where to even begin? The style? The cutscenes? The fact in general that we were gifted another side-scrolling showpiece with Samus Aran? All of the above. If you’ve held off from picking up Dread then from one Metroid fan to another - get involved. Definite “DANGER, WILL ROBINSON” vibes from the E.M.M.I. but hey, Lost In Space is cool.

I’m standing by in hope of another 2D adventure in future, but having waited 19 years for the latest, I’m settling in with a catalogue of classics to keep me company until then...

See you on the next mission!

-Jack

[ten0rreaper]

Here’s my entry to the @pnatsecretsanta for 2020! @quarktrinity, I hope you enjoy! It’ll be crossposted to ao3, link will be in a reblog. Thank you for your patience!

Isabel: hey so

Isabel: when are u going to get here

Max: wat?

Max: its xmas ev

Isabel: you really need to get a new phone

Isabel: and remember? youre supposed to come to my place tonight, wait it out

Isabel: max?

Isabel: if you were spacing out again im going to kill you

Isabel: you WERE doing the face again now that i think about it

Max: u guys ned 2 mak imprtnt info cler. Y i spcd

Isabel: you need to listen! this time mr spender remembered to tell u and everything. youre not allowed to be mad at us this time

Isabel: in short, get ur butt over here before midnight. sneak out if u need to, thats what isaac does

Isabel: in long, if u dont santas gonna kill u

----

“Let me get this straight.” 11:30 P.M. December 24th, 20XX. Max sat in Ed’s room on a chair hastily drawn up, with a jacket pulled hastily over his pajamas and hat still jammed on his head, massaging his temples. “Santa’s real, he’s a spirit, and he hates all spectrals and is coming to kill us?”

“That’s a bit of an oversimplification, but yeah,” Isaac said, and Max shot him a glare. He could hear that smugness. “So like, there’s a lot of spirits that kinda grow from ideas humans have, right? I don’t know what’s up with Scrapdragon, but like, Muse came from the ideas around ancient Greek muses, like his name. They can be really off base but still have the same ideas- like Lucifer, Mr. Spender’s spirit, is just some lightbulb guy, but Lucifer does mean light and stuff, so they can just be along those lines. But like, a LOT of kids believe in Santa and think about him a lot, so there’ve been a few spirits that manifested around the idea of a guy who can get anywhere to deliver presents to good kids and punishments to bad ones, especially with stories like Krampus too.”

“But most spirits can’t interact with humans, so this guy mostly goes around to other spirits and ghosts and stuff,” Isabel said, distracted by her attempts to spin her umbrella like a top. “So he likes spirits a lot. And we kick a lot of spirit butt,” she punctuated this with a particular spirited spin of the umbrella, “so he hates us and comes to try to kill us every year. And because he can teleport, he can get inside the barrier. So gramps makes us all stay with him until sunrise every year so that all the adults can fight off santa and his reindeer so we don’t get put in a sack and teleported somewhere.”

Max groans and tries to fall backwards in his chair, but the chair doesn’t budge. “Your paint really isn’t good for drama,” Max informed Ed.

“Don’t be so dramatic then,” Ed snickered. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Says you, You just stay at home all night. I have to sneak out! My dad’ll kill me if he finds out!”

“I just put a pillow in my blankets and it’s fine,” Isaac says with a shrug. “If your dad looks harder than that, we probably have a tool lying around that can wipe memories or something.”

“I don’t want to mind wipe my dad,” Max grumbled, but resigned himself to slumping grumpily in his chair to watch Ed play some punching game or whatever. Bad enough that his own baseball bat might want to eat him, and he was trapped in this town with no way out- now Christmas hated him too. 

Isaac caught his eye and smiled sympathetically. “You get used to it,” he whispered.

“I thought I was used to it a month ago.”

Max jumped as a knock on the door sounded, glaring at Isabel’s laughter. The door opened without waiting for a response. Mr. Spender poked his head in through the door with a goofy grin. “Alright, kids! You all ready for this year’s Christmas night?”

Ed didn’t even look away from his video game, waving lazily. “We could use some snacks. That’d be nice.”

“Yeah, where are the snacks, old man? You want us to starve?” Isabel waved her umbrella at him like a grumpy old woman might a cane.

“You’re well fed enough already. I made sure of that.” It spoke wonders to how used to this existence Max had become that Mr. Spender knocking politely had scared him, but Isabel’s grandpa floating through the wall didn’t. The man’s bulk and imperious gaze still caused him some anxiety, though, and he had to consciously remind himself that he’s a punk, he’s cool, and he doesn’t respect anyone’s authority, even a scary ghost’s. Yeah, totally. 

The atmosphere of the room quickly shifted, and Isabel’s eyes dropped. “Yeah, I was just joking. Sorry, Grandpa.”

“Joke or not, this night is too much effort to make light of. My students and I are putting ourselves at risk for you,” Mr. Guerra said, looming over the room, “so only vocalize a need if you need it.”

Isabel glowered at the carpet. “Alright, Grandpa…”

“So. I will ask again. Are you all prepared? Midnight strikes soon.”

“We are, sir,” Isaac said. Max fought not to pull a face at Isaac’s please pay attention to me, authority figure tone, but for once it was helpful, so whatever. He could let it slide. 

Mr. Guerra eyed Isaac. “...good. We’ll get you once the sun begins to rise.” And with that, he turned away and slid down through the floor. Max could already hear him barking at the pupils below.

Mr. Spender grimaced. “Well… good! Everything’s all set then.”

Isabel grumbled, picking at the carpet.

“...trust me,” Mr. Spender said, forcing audibly fake cheer into his voice, “This isn’t a hassle at all. You guys getting stuffed into a sack- now, that would be quite the kerfuffle!”

They all stared as Mr. Spender slowly deflated. “...sure,” Max said. “Uh, we’ll be good, stay up here, it’s fine.”

“Great.” Mr. Spender nodded, stared awkwardly for a moment, and stepped out the door. “Well, Merry Christmas, children!” He shut the door behind him. Max listened with the others as his footsteps hurried down the hall to the stairwell.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, a distinctly uncomfortable experience for Max. It was almost impossible not to ramble, and he was reaching his breaking point and about to open the floodgates of inane and overly verbose chatter when Ed, thankfully, took point.

“That sucked,” he said simply, and Isabel groaned and fell back.

“I hate when he does that!” Isabel laid her umbrella by her side and waved her hands in the air exasperatedly. “It’s like he has no in between and I’m always either The Best And He’s So Disappointed In Me For Not Being Perfect or A Helpless Kid He Needs To Do Everything For! He always gets like this tonight!”

Ed paused his game, and reached around to pat her on the knee. “I mean, we could prove him wrong. We beat up spirits all the time, how hard could this be?”

“Okay, hold up, hand on,” Max said. “No? I- this is a terrible idea, you just got finished telling me about how if I wasn’t here I’d be killed by Santa, and now you want to go out there and fight Santa?”

“Well, not Santa,” Ed said. “Duh. He mostly just sends his reindeer to do everything and hangs out on rooftops.”

“And no offence Max, but uh…” Isaac scratched the back of his head.

“You’d totally get killed if you were on your own.” Isabel flipped herself upright. “All you got is that dinky bat, and magnet powers. You can’t even do a spec shot, dude, you’d get thrown in a sack in no time. We’d be fine.”

Max crossed his arms. “Alright, screw you too.”

“But other than that… that sounds like it could be pretty fun.” Isabel grinned. “Show the old man and his big dumb deer who’s boss. Maybe then he’ll stop coming to Mayview every year.”

“That would be pretty nice actually.” Isaac was clearly thinking hard- he had his broody face on. “I would like to stop having to sneak out every year. Sooner or later my parents will notice.”

Max shuddered. “Actually, yeah, Isaac has a point. I don’t want to die to Rudolph or anything, but if we keep having to do this, I’ll die to my dad, which is way worse honestly.”

“Your dad’s a teddy bear,” Isabel said, and rolled her eyes. “Stop complaining.”

“You haven’t seen him when I fail a test!”

“So are we going or what?” Isabel was already pulling her jacket back on, tucking her umbrella firmly under her arm. Ed bounced on the balls of his feet with a grin, already eyeing up the window and painting himself a rope. 

Max looked at Isaac, who shrugged and got to his feet. Max sighed, and stood up, regretfully leaving his scooter on the floor. “Yeah, alright. We’re going.”

Well, Max was regretting this. He was regretting this so much. He tromped through the snowy woods, eternally grateful for his boots. “Why in the world do we have to fight the spirits of Christmas in the woods? Why can’t we do it in town, or like, on the road at least? The roads we salted. The roads wouldn’t be as cold.”

“Cuz we’d get caught, dummy,” Isabel snorted. Or maybe it was a sniffle. “Either someone from the dojo would hear us and yell at us and get in the way before we can prove anything, or someone in town would yell at us and call the cops or something.”

“Maybe having people nearby to help isn’t a bad thing? You can’t just say that after saying that I’m the most likely person to die!”

“You came out here anyway,” Isaac pointed out, and looked all too unaffected by Max’s glare.

“I hate you. I hate you with everything in my being you- you chump elf.”

Isabel laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, this place looks pretty good, huh?” She stopped, looking around the snowy clearing they’d come into and turning in place. She nodded, satisfied. “There’s room to fight here, and we could come up with some pretty solid traps. Isaac wouldn’t have to worry too much about blasting a bunch of trees.”

“Looks pretty good!” Ed pulled off a mitten with his teeth and dug his paint brush out of his pocket. “What’re you thinkin, Izzy? Tripwire? Net?”

“Let’s go net,” Isaac said. “They can fly.”

“Plus, last time you tripped Isaac, remember?” Isabel elbowed Ed in the side. “Max and I are pretty fast, but Isaac needs some help.”

“Please. I can jump higher than your house is tall.”

“But you still fell just flat on your face,” she cooed. Isaac grumbled, cursing her just loud enough for Isabel to overhear, but she just batted her eyes and paid him no mind. “Okay, so,” she said, looking up at the sky through the hole in the canopy, “we probably only have a few more minutes before one of the reindeer finds us-”

And that’s when a dark shape, faster than cheetah and twice as forceful, barrelled into Max.  And off he went, hanging by the hood of his jacket on a wicked sharp antler prong, into the sky and away to the sound of jingling bells.

----

Things were quiet this year, Richard reflected. It was honestly a relief- maybe the spirit had finally given up. Probably too much to hope for, but, Christmas miracles and all. In any case, there seemed to be plenty of time to get the kids some mugs of hot cocoa and cookies to wait out the night with.

“Need any help balancing those?” Day asked, and Richard felt his mood become momentarily strained.

“Actually, that would be nice, if you think you could.” The tray of mugs and cookies he was balancing was quite the challenge, after all. Day reached up and somehow grabbed the plates of cookies perfectly- Spender could swear he saw her eyes flash for a moment, smart woman- and left him to balance the four mugs. A much easier task now.

“I really thought things would be more eventful, with how much Francisco was fussing over it, but everything’s pretty quiet, isn’t it?” Day smiled and followed Richard’s footsteps to the stairs.

“Well, usually there’s more cause for it, but the spirits seem to be laying low this year. Not an unwelcome reprieve in the slightest, but I do worry about Max… if this isn’t the new status quo, I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“He’s a- well, he seems like a really smart kid,” Day reassured him. “I think he’ll make sure to be careful next year too!”

“I hope so. He does seem resourceful, but… he can be reckless.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said, before stopping with a small frown on her face. “They’re being pretty quiet…”

Spender listened for a moment himself. “Hm, they are… mayhaps they went to bed early?”

“That doesn’t sound like them.”

“No,” he said, dread creeping into his heart. “It doesn’t.”

He set the tray of cookies on the floor. He approached Ed’s room. He knocked.

He opened the door.

Richard’s lips thinned into a grim line as he surveyed the dark room. “They’re gone.”

------

Max screamed for his life as he was lifted faster than he could process into the sky. It was a clear, starry night, and they all looked like streaks as his captor circled through the sky, closer and closer to the top of the dome before colliding headfirst into it. Max didn’t have any more air in his lungs to scream as he was jostled loose and began to fall down, down- only to be caught again, this time like a sack of potatoes on the spirit’s back. He was overwhelmed by the sound of silver bells as he caught his breath, eyes screwed tightly shut.

Eventually, his lungs rallied to his call, and he was able to take in an unpleasant few gulps of animal-scented air. Max cracked his eyes open a peek- and immediately shut them again. Too high. He was way, way too high up. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, and the wind burned his face and the tips of his ears.

Hold on.

“My hat,” he wheezed reaching one hand up to grope the top of his head. “My hat’s gone!”

“Soon that will be of no matter.”

Max screamed- even he was getting fed up with his own screams at this point, but instinct didn’t seem to be on the same page.

“Quiet,” the rumbling voice said, and the spirit turned to look at Max. “Your sounds irritate me.”

The spirit that held Max on its back was by far the biggest deer of any Max had ever seen. It was shaggy and majestic, even as its fur was electric yellow, and its huge rack of knife-like antlers shivered as if they were made of candle flame. Its many eyes blinked, and it beared serrated teeth- a stark contrast to the many silver bells that seemed a part of its pelt. Max looked away, avoiding its cruel gaze, to see three pairs of legs, hooves thundering over empty air. And below him, seven more enormous shapes were blazing their way towards the distant forest clearing, led by an eerie red light. “Oh no, oooooh no, no no no no no no…”

“But yes, child. At last you have been retrieved, and soon your friends will be as well. Then, you can all face your punishment.” The spirit laughed cruelly. “I am Dasher, and I was simply the herald.”

“So you’re just, you’re just Dasher? Like from the poem? One of those things down there is…” Jeez, this was surreal. “...Donner? And, Vixen?”

“Many tremble in fear before those names. It would do you right to show some respect.”

“What? No, nobody does! You guys are like, goofy little stop motion dolls, man, how’d you guys end up looking like this?”

“Our powers are untold by your human poems-”

“Aren’t you guys based on the poems?!”

Dasher snorted and tossed his head in anger. “That is an egregious oversimplification-”

“I thought your name was Dasher, not Dictionary.”

The spirit cried out in frustration, and Max felt something in him settle a bit better. Poking things with words, he could do that. Just don’t look down. “So, uh,” he began, shifting a bit so it was less like he was thrown over Dasher and more like he was riding him, “why am I not in a sack yet?”

“Our pilot is attending to his annual business in Mayview,” Dasher growled. “It is we who have the ability to fight and fly- so it is we who collect naughty children. Once your compatriots have been obtained, then we may return to our stations.”

“Wow,” Max drawled. “I can’t believe Santa needs his reindeer to deal with three preteens.”

“You do have a teenager within your ranks. That does provide some extra challenge.”

“Whoa, wait, really?”

“Yes. He cannot fully be counted as a child by our pilot any longer- he has aged enough to become a teenager. It is not he that we seek.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly arbitrary and nitpicky.” Max was so going to tease Isaac about this later. If he didn’t, well, get thrown into a sack and… baked into a pie? Eaten alive? Thrown into a dungeon? Whatever. Try to be positive.

“If you take issue, you may air your complaints to our pilot.”

“Taking it straight to the manager, alright.” Max stared at his hands, balled in bright yellow fur, and took a deep breath as he relaxed them. He wasn’t going to fall, he was certain Dasher wouldn’t allow him, channel a Karen- and he released the fur, balancing on the spirit’s back with only his legs. Before he could lose his nerve, he swung his backpack off his shoulder and grabbed his bat. Okay, weapon acquired. Just… what to do with it.

Dasher huffed. “Puny weapon. Even with the power of an enslaved spirit, you cannot defeat me. Especially not with a spirit as weak as that one.”

“Ugh, not you too,” Max grumbled. At least this thing wasn’t getting aggressive. “I’m kinda tired of being called the weak one, it’s getting old.”

“It would have been better, then, if you had kept your power to yourself, and not bothered the true denizens of this world, as the other child does.”

“Other child-? You know what, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I do not care. Now let me think.” Max re-gripped Dasher tightly, this time grabbing the reigns, and looked around. Man, of course Max got magnet powers in the place where there’s no tall buildings anywhere- it would be great if they could pass by a skyscraper or two for Max to attach himself to. But alas… then, his eyes caught a gleam, a dark silhouette against the colorful lights of Mayview. 

A transmission tower in the woods. And they were heading right for it. Max shrugged his backpack back on to his shoulder and gripped his bat as tight as he could.

“Thinking will get you nowhere, child.”

“Yeah, but it’ll keep me quiet,” Max mumbled.

“True,” Dasher said. And started to turn back towards the clearing.

“No!” Max yelped, holding his bat out desperately- he knew the tower was too distant still, but he put all his will into the bat, trying to extend its power as far as he can-

Dasher lurched beneath him with a confused cry, the bells jangled, and Max’s focus was broken with a shout. Immediately, Dasher steadied beneath him.

“Child, if you do that again I will throw you off into the ground-”

“What- I don’t even know what I did-” Max’s breath caught as he realized what happened. The bells. They were metal, and he had what was definitely a terrible idea. But it was his only idea.

Quickly, before Dasher could retaliate, Max activated his bat. Dasher howled with rage as all the bells in his body strained in the direction of the magnetic center, and Max laughed with panic. 

“RELEASE ME AT ONCE-”

“No,” Max said, filled with thrill and panic, and directed Dasher back towards the clearing. The spirit barrelled towards it at supernatural speeds, a furious scream echoing through the night as he crashed into the snow like a comet. Max tumbled off of the spirit’s back, and the bat’s angle changed wildly, forcing Dasher in mad circles.

The other seven deer spirits, crowded in the woods, were as thrown into chaos as Isabel, Ed, and Isaac were, but Ed recovered fastest. “Max!” He crowed, head popping out of the snow. “You’re alive!”

“Somehow!” Max laughed, voice squeaky with panic. “For now!” In the corner of his eye, he noticed another spirit- a large one that was on fucking fire, so must be either Comet or Blitzen- and quickly swung his bat around to point at it. Dasher was forced to charge full speed into the other spirit, which dissolved into a wisp with a cry of shock.

Isabel whooped. “I can’t believe it! Magnet powers are good for something!”

“Serves you right!” He felt about to shake apart, and still dizzy from the crash, but spinning Dasher around like a top was easy enough- and the other jingling spirits were drawn in too. It was a glorious explosion of color, sound, and christmas spirits as one by one they melted each other away into whisps. Finally, only Dasher stood in the snow, puffing furious, cloudy breaths into the air.

“You will pay,” Dasher hissed. “Naughty children. You will not escape your punishment, this I swear to you.”

“Whatever you say, bub,” Ed chirped, and raised his scythe above his head.

“Wait!”

Max and the others turned back to look just in time to watch an arrow streak through the night and imbed itself in Dasher’s forehead. “No, no,” he groaned, watching Isabel’s face light up with glee.

Agent Day and Mr. Spender ran into the clearing, both panting and exhausted. “Thank goodness we found you,” Agent Day breathed, hands on her knees. “We were so worried that you were taken…”

“But I saw Dasher fall from the sky!” Spender’s chest heaved, and he swayed with effort, but he somehow managed to stay upright. “I’m so glad you’re all alright, even Dasher alone is quite the challenge to combat…”

“Nah, we got all of them.” Isabel grinned and punched her palm. “Max was able to yank ‘em around by the bells with his bat, and he got em all to poof each other. It was really easy to hit ‘em when they were all clumped up, too.”

“You- you really beat them all? Where are their tools?!”

“Right here, Mr. Spender!” Isaac called, arms full of a few rocks and sticks. “They’re, uh, not much to look at, but…”

“Amazing! Wonderful job, all of you- these will be great for the club’s stores!”

“But you shouldn’t have snuck out. We were so worried about you, and you’re glad we found you! Your grandfather is worried sick!” Agent Day wrung her hands together, cane stuck in the snow.

“Yes, he’s… not happy,” Spender admitted. “But, surely he’ll be proud when he finds out what you’ve accomplished?”

“Probably not,” Isabel sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets.

“...probably not.” Spender came over to put a hand on her shoulder. “But, for what it’s worth, I am.” Isabel looked up at him, then threw her arms around him. Spender smiled softly and hugged her in return.

“This is great,” Max groaned. “But I’m being crushed by a flippin’ reindeer, so can I get some help?”

Oblivious to Max’s irritation, Dasher continued licking Max’s hair life the reindeer he resembled. “You’re not so bad, I suppose. Resourceful child.”

“It always happens to me.”

“The arrow will at least last the night,” Agent Day said thoughtfully. “It should be safe for you to go home, in that case- you too, I think, Isaac! Since all the others are gone, after all… Maybe Dasher can take you home!”

“Nooooo!”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ms. Day,” Spender said. “You could perhaps take Isaac and Ed back to the dojo, and I can take Isaac back to his home…?”

“Yes sir!” Day smiled. “Merry Christmas, Max, Isaac,” she said. “I hope you get back undetected.”

“Thank you, Ms. Day,” Isaac said. “You too.”

“You guys suck,” Max grumbled.

----

It took a bit for Max to wrangle Dasher into taking him home, but under Day’s spell, the spirit was a fairly easygoing ride. As Max climbed back in through his window to his undisturbed bed, he heard the spirit settle on the roof to keep watch for the sunrise. And, taking comfort in not being discovered and in the knowledge that next year, when he’s a teen, he won’t have to worry about any of this, Max changed back into his pajamas, settled into bed, and slipped into a deep sleep.

[idyllicstarker]

i love your writing!! could you maybe do something with stalker!tony and victim!peter??❤️

Thank you so much, that means the world. 💖

I definitely tried. It turned into a little bit of dark!tony and it was very back and forth from trying to get both Peter’s and Tony’s side of the story in so I struggled a little. I hope you still like it!

I wanted to expand more, but I also knew If i did, it was going to have to be long, and I didn’t think I could write that. So I hoped everyone doesn’t mind I stopped it where I did

Warnings: Implicit references to sexual themes, dark!tony, stalking, kidnapping

Fear wasn’t a far good enough word to describe the way Peter felt. In fact, it barely skimmed the surface. He couldn’t shake the underlying truth - he was in danger.

Paranoia was no longer a plausible explanation. This wasn’t a joke, or a silly prank by someone from school. It had gone too far. He didn’t feel safe within the apartment, not when he thought, no.. he knew someone was watching.

It had started with simple uneasiness. The feeling that he was being followed wherever he walked. But this was New York. Everyone was bustling and rushing around to get to somewhere, no one stopped twice to look at Peter, let alone watch his every move. He thought nothing of it. He had no reason to. So he continued on with his everyday life as if it was nothing.

“May?”

As custom, he called out as he entered the apartment, only to, like every other day, be met with no reply. He liked to joke with himself that one day he’d call out and a low rumbling voice, very much unlike May’s, would call out back. At least it would give him time to bolt back out the door. That was just a giant hell no!

Yet today, he was closer to that joke then he’d ever thought he’d get. No voice called out, but they didn’t need to. Making his way to his room, he threw his key on his desk and set his backpack down before he blinked, his face scrunching up. “Why is it so cold in here?” he muttered, curious eyes flicking to the window before he paused. It was open? Peter never left the window open whilst he was at school. It was hardly ever open at all, and he distinctly remembered he didn’t leave it open last night. He was weighing up the probability of May having opened it when he looked towards the bed.

“What?”, he gasped out quietly.

He wasn’t notorious for being the best bed maker in the world. But he certainly hadn’t left his sheets all bunched up at the end of the bed like that. And was that the outline of where a body had lay? Surely… surely that still can’t be there from where Peter had woke up this morning. Taking a cautious step closer, he realised that something had been left. A note, a small piece of card, and a flower. Raising an eyebrow, he let out a deep breath. A sudden glance back to the window left a sunken feeling in his chest, he moved to slam it shut, leaning back against the wall as he tried to collect his breath. He didn’t even want to look, it couldn’t be true. Someone hadn’t been here, it had to be May. Right?

Swallowing the lump that had formed, he closed his eyes. He was a big boy. He could look at a damn note without getting spooked. He refused to sit on the bed. Instead, licking his lips he stooped down to grab the small white card. But the instant he did, his nose scrunched as he pulled back. There was no denying the stench of aftershave left in the dip in the bed. Some kind of masculine, musky, light aftershave. Peter didn’t know which one, but it smealy expensive if smells could have wealth. Like something a celebrity would wear. But this couldn’t be a celebrity. That would be a total weird reversal of roles. Surely Peter should be the one breaking into their house and leaving notes of.. he looked down to read over the impatient scrawl on the card. But any identification of whatever this was instantly flew from his mind as he gasped.

His cheeks drained of colour, as he stumbled back so sit in his desk chair, the offending message falling to the floor.

‘To my dearest Peter,

You don’t know who I am. But I know everything I need to know about you. You’re beautiful, amazing, and so perfect. I want you. And I won’t stop at anything to get you. Don’t bother asking for help, the authorities can’t do anything. And I will know. And trust me when I say, I’ll take everything you hold dear to your heart if you do.

Your loving,

TS

P.S. The sweater you’re wearing today, the pale blue one, the only blue sweater you own... it’s adorable. I think you should wear the cream one tomorrow one, the knitted one, you’d look so pretty, but then again, you’d look pretty in anything’

~

“He knows where I live, what part aren’t you understanding? He broke into my house. He knew exactly what I wore today. And apparently he knows my wardrobe. He must be watching me.”

“I still think it’s cute.”

At his best friend’s reply, Peter let out an aggravated huff. He didn’t need to look at the screen of the video call to see Ned had rolled his eyes.

“I’m just saying. He even left you a flower”

“HE BROKE INTO MY HOUSE!!”

“For once I agree with him. This isn’t good, it’s dangerous. And.. as much as having a secret admirer seems romantic... this seems borderline psychotic. He’s stalking you”, Mj of course chimed in with a voice of reason. Looking up from her sketchbook for the first time since the call started.

Peter sighed, evidently in distress, as he let out a shaky breath. “Well what do I do? Go to the police?”, he asked.

There was silence from both, which just meant that the answer was yes, no neither really wanted to say it. “Let me see the flower”, Mj eventually spoke, pushing away that idea for a second. They all knew that going to the police made this official. And Peter didn’t want that on his shoulders. The boy had already been shaking, terrified, on the verge of tears when he first phoned them.

He looked over to the bed, sighing as he moved to grab the flower before holding it up at the camera for her to see. She narrowed her eyes, squinting before she tilted her head. “It’s a camellia”, she said.

“That means he’s longing for you.”

They both looked towards Ned, surprised at his sudden words. He gave them a ‘duh’ sort of look.

“You know.. the language of flowers. It’s a white Camellia… that means the giver is longing for the person that they gave it too”

Despite the situation Peter couldn’t help his soft laugh. Even Mj covered her mouth with her hand to hide her amused smirk.

“I didn’t know that Ned. But thank you”, he said, before sighing, and biting down on his lip.

“I don’t get it, why would anyone want to stalk me?”, he huffed, biting down on his lip.

“He told you why Pete”, Ned said, he was delicate to Peter’s emotional state, in no way mean, just stating the truth. “You’re asking the wrong questions. Who is this man? Who’s T? Is what you should be asking.”

Peter watched as Mj nodded from the corner of his eye. “I know you said it’s a man because of the aftershave. But we have no concrete evidence it actually is a guy either. It could be a woman who just masked the smell with aftershave. But you go to the police, and he- they, actually did lie in your bed, I’m sure they’ll be able to get fingerprints or something.”

Peter whimpered, a small quiet sound, playing with his fingertips nervously. “I can’t”, he saw them both open their mouths to object but he held up his hand to silence them. “You saw what he wrote. I can’t risk it. If he hurt you guys, or May.. I don’t know what I’d do”, he muttered softly.

~

Tony looked up from the screen he'd been staring at intensely ever since Peter had returned home. Happy stood in the corner of the room, and Tony nodded his head. “I have to admit, the camera in his room was a good idea. Saves you having to sit outside his house”, he said, smiling at the man.

“I thought you’d enjoy being able to watch the boy, Mr. Stark”, Happy said. When he was dismissed, he left the room, and Tony settled back in his chair, gaze falling over the laptop once again.

He’d watched the whole scene unfold. Obsession? Maybe. He wasn’t guilty. He’d been watching the boy for a while now, or he’d gotten Happy too. He knew his routine better than he knew his own. He thought it was about time he swooped in to take his shot.

The apartment empty, he climbed up onto the fire escape. A simple tool was it took to unlock the window. And he was inside.

The temptation to sink into the bed was too much. He craved to feel the space where Peter’s body lay. To smell the remnants of his scent. The temptation was far too much, and far too great to miss. He didn’t even mind that he was messing up his suit to do it. He buried his nose into the pillow, groaning as he realised.. that’s what the beauty’s shampoo was like. His mind wandered to all the times Peter must have let go of himself in this very spot. Feeling himself hardening in his slacks Tony was so very close to relieving himself then and there. But he didn’t, he had more respect for himself than that. And with the camera he’d fitted, almost perfectly hidden in the room, he may as well wait until he can get a full HD video of the real thing.

Peter would never guess that a camera had been left. And it was fun for Tony to watch him phone his friends as they discuss what he’d done. It was only going to get better and better, and Tony couldn’t wait.

~

The second letter came the very next day much to Peter’s dismay. This time it had slipped underneath the door. Tony not wanting to risk breaking inside again and Peter going back on his word and actually going to the police. But still when Peter slipped inside and looked down at the small card, he groaned, his heart skipping a beat.

He was quick to dash to his room with it, making sure no more flowers were there. But this time it seemed exactly like he’d left it.

He turned to look over the letter, his face scrunching up slightly.

‘My beautiful angel,

I’m a bit sad you didn’t wear the sweater I told you to wear. But I loved the black hoodie nevertheless.

You’re a good boy for not going to the police. Well done.

T’

Tears filled Peter’s eyes as he threw it to the ground and crumpled to the floor. Peter was weak and Tony knew.

Tony hadn’t wanted that reaction. But he knew to expect it. Peter wouldn’t warm up to him fast. It would take time for that. Time when they finally meet. But for now, this was enough. He enjoyed following him to and from school. And he would continue to enjoy it.

~

The letters kept on coming. But soon enough, Peter stopped reading them. He was trying to block it out. As soon as he returned home and he noticed another, either at T coming into his room, or him slipping them under the front door, he’d moved to shred them instantly. He’d shout at that he was making him go crazy. And he’d cry. And then he’d repeat it the next day as if everything was okay.

Of course this only angered Tony. There was little he could do now. Peter had yet to realise that the camera was in his room. And god had he’d seen some beautiful shows through that little lense. It seemed even the threat of someone watching somewhere, wasn’t enough to stop Peter’s hormones from growing too much.

But that’s beside the point. Peter didn’t leave the house unless it was for school. Tony had nothing to do other than stare at the camera. It was starting to become tedious. He wasn’t even reading his letters anymore. And he didn’t like it. So, he decided he’d take it a step further.

For a while the letters stopped coming, and Peter held onto a tiny shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, Tony had given up. He smiled more, there was a lighter bounce in his step, no longer tense, or on-edge. On the days Tony didn’t watch him to and from school, Happy did, and the man was always happy to report to his boss that the boy was back to being his bubbly and cheerful self. An angel in disguise, as Tony liked to put it.

Yet his angel was rebellious. He didn’t like to cooperate. And the scowl on Tony’s face after he watched Peter scream, and break down and cry when he saw the gift he left for him one day, was murderous. Much like last time, he snuck in, but this time he left something much more elaborate. The room was full to the brim, with white and red roses.

Peter’s sob, although heartbreaking, was far from what Tony had wanted. He growled. Peter was going to have to deal with this. Tony was done with trying to gain his affections in this way.

Peter called Ned and Mj once again, crying out about how scared he was, but he couldn’t tell May because she’d want them to leave the apartment but they had nowhere to go, and they couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel. She’d only go to the police and Peter couldn’t risk that.

They eventually, thanks to Ned, came to the conclusion that the whie roses meant “I’m worthy of you” (Peter let out a scoff at that) and the red of course, “I love you!”

“How can he love someone he’s never met. This isn’t right, he’s stalking me, clearly. He’s sick in the head!!”

“Well I mean, we don’t know for sure that you don’t know him. We looked at anyone with the initials given but for all we know.. It could just be an alias”

Peter glared at the woman, but he knew she was right. He looked around his room, ankle deep in flowers, and the stench, although beautiful, only sickened Peter. He sighed and got to work in trying to hide them from his aunt.

~

The three of course came to the conclusion that Peter was most definitely being stalked. You could say they weren’t being observant enough but Tony was clever… and rich. The camera he used in Peter’s room blended into the wall almost perfectly. Unless you hunted for one, you’d never find it. Fortunately, after watching Peter for over a year before making a move, he realised the pretty boy was naive. Tony never used the same car to trail after him and his activities for more than two days in a row. The only detail you’d pick up on was that all the windows were tinted in every car.

But Tony realised hiding behind a mask was something he didn’t want to do anymore. He wanted Peter, he wanted him badly. And he was going to get him.

Five days after the flowers graced his room, Peter got something much better in Tony’s opinion. Tony himself.

As the boy pushed open his door, bracing himself for a note, or maybe more flowers, he never thought he’d see a random (although handsome) man sitting on his bed.

Peter’s jaw dropped, breath catching in his throat as he grabbed the nearest thing he could reach to protect himself. “Who the fudge are you?”, he shouted, arms shaking as his mouth went dry.

Tony smirked, laughing softly before he shook his head. “Now princess, there’s no need to yell. I doubt your physics textbook will do much damage to me so I figure you should just put it down.  I think you know who I am. Although I’m a bite offended you never seemed to like my gifts, trust me, I saw everything.” He pointed towards the camera on the wall.

Peter’s gaze locked on it, a heartbroken gasp leaving his throat as he dropped the book, arms curling around his body. He felt… dirty. “It was you… you… you’ve saw everything… m-my body…”

Peter was slowly becoming more distraught, and Tony shook his head. “It’s okay hun, you’ll soon know soon enough that I mean no harm..”

“You’re disgusting”, he spat out, letting out a choked sob.

Tony’s jaw locked as he let out a huff of a breath and calmed himself. “You’re just as stubborn in person”, he muttered, before sighing and shaking his head. “Well, It’s all fine, I guess we’re just going to have to do this the hard way”, he said.

Fear flashed through Peter’s eyes, taking a step back cautiously. There was a moment where they stared, before he turned and ran. But Tony, despite him seeming much older (again attractive but it didn’t change the fact that this man was still a physco) Tony was much too fast for Peter. Barely seconds later, he was tackled down the couch. Tony’ warm strong body holding him flush against it, the man’s head so close to his neck that he could feel the scratch of his beard against his skin.

“Wow I have to say I do quite like this position”, Tony smirked, ignoring Peter’s whimpers and screams as he tried to break away. “I’ll see you in a few hours pet”, he whispered casually against his ear, before Peter felt a cloth against his nose and mouth. He held his breath, shaking as he tried not to breath it in. Begging, hoping, that May would make it back early from work today, But eventually it was too much. Letting out a broken sob into the rag, his tears soaked the material.

His eyes closed, as he fell into a sleep, feeling Tony’s wet lips pressing kisses to the back of his head.

[thelastpilot]

"Oh were you gonna finish that?”- Adrino Oneshot

Okay i actually wrote this maybe... two years ago? And i’ve always loved it so so much and I’ve only just finally finished it. Honestly pretty proud of the tone and the fun vibe and the cuteness so please if you will! Adrino Diner!AU!!

6k

Adrien had a favorite restaurant, like many serial commuters and busy people tend to have. Some people pick for location, or speed or menu or environment, but as far as he was concerned his favorite had absolutely everything going for it.

It was close to his apartment (a nice morning walk) and opened early and closed late. It had the best comfort foods around, no matter what time you came, and it always tasted like a homecooked meal. It was tucked off the main track so tourists were never too frequent, though enough to stimulate business he hoped, and he never had any trouble getting a table.

By all rights he should, but he was such a regular that he was fairly certain the family who owned the place moved things around to make sure he always got his favorite table if it was open.  He was known for tipping very well but had enough of a banter with the servers to think that they might just like him anyway even if he didn’t.

Adrien stretched as he stepped through the restaurant’s threshold that morning, chuckling a little as he looked around to confirm that he actually was the first customer of the day, or at least the only one currently in the building. His morning routine usually landed him there right after opening, where he had plenty of time to leisurely eat his fill before going to work. However, being so early usually meant that whatever staff was there wasn’t entirely prepared for him.

He waited patiently at the entrance, closing his eyes and enjoying the warmth that warded off the cool November morning. He could smell coffee and hear the distant sounds of a kitchen just barely waking up, when he heard a familiar call of, “Oh! Good Morning!”

Adrien cracked an eye to see his favorite server poke his head out from the kitchen, quickly stepping out and drying his hands on a towel as he greeted him.

Nino looked just as tired as he was, his short dark hair a bit ruffled and his gold eyes heavy with sleep, but his smile was just as kind as always, brightening when Adrien returned his greeting.

“Dude I don’t know how you always get here so early; I get paid to do it and I barely wake up on time.”

Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle, the two of them navigating to his well-worn window seat. “I was gonna say that I was surprised to see you opening for a change, I normally only catch you at lunch time. I prefer now though, I like to eat when its slow and I can take as long as I want.”

Nino moved a step ahead to set up the table, talking over his shoulder and he found a menu and a set of silverware.

“I’ve been opening more and more lately, it’s like my cousins realized my mid-day shift was a sweet gig compared to setting the restaurant up, and now they won’t stop taking my shifts.”  Nino shot him a sleepy smile as he added, “And for the record, I have never rushed you out. You’re always the one who pays in the middle of your meal.”

Adrien waited patiently as he finished setting up, mumbling something like “I feel bad wasting a table when you’re busy though…”, which made him laugh.

“Dude, you’ve paid enough in tips by this point to have a deed to that table, it’s yours.  So,” he fished in his apron for a pen, clicking it pointedly as he turned towards his guest. “What can I get going for you?”

“What’s ready?” Adrien countered as he sat, laughing too when Nino sighed in exhaustion.

“Literally nothing, I got in so late man. Once Ahmed wakes up a little though we should be able to get whatever. Uh,” Nino looked towards the kitchen before smiling bashfully. “Maybe a coffee for now? I have coffee.”

“Coffee’s good, no rush. I’ve got a late call time today so I’m not in a hurry at all.”

“Thank god,” Nino breathed out in a rush, shaking his head when Adrien snickered. He looked back at the kitchen again, glaring a little when no sound interrupted him. “… the kitchens gone quiet… which means Ahmed probably passed out or something. I’ll uh, go get your coffee, I know how you like it.”

Nino gave him a little thumbs up before tucking away his pretty unnecessary pen and darting off towards the long vacant counter in the back of the restaurant. He only stopped to wake up the main computer and quickly throw on some ambient music before running to the back, making himself known again only by the distant shouting that sounded in the kitchen a short time later.

Adrien settled in to wait, leaning back in his familiar booth with half lidded eyes as he gazed aimlessly out the window. Every once in a while, he would hear some clatter or tone or bustle from the kitchen and it would make him smile a little, enjoying the quiet lo-fi type beat Nino had thrown on before getting swallowed by his chores.

The music was always better when he was working.

 When his coffee finally came Adrien accepted it gladly, Nino looking a little more awake but still a bit stressed out as he ‘took his order’. He did the quotation marks himself, apologizing again because it was gonna be a minute for sure but his patience was really appreciated and everything. He scribbled down the order and was already mumbling to himself about the delivery truck and cleaning and who should have done what when closing the night before as he dashed away again, not leaving them much of a chance to chat, unfortunately. Adrien watched him leave as he sipped on his coffee, which despite his rush Nino still managed to make in his specific way and was distinctly glad again that he was the only one in the building. Nino and Ahmed would probably be way more stressed out if there was someone around who might actually mind.

He was glad that Nino knew him enough from all his patronage to understand that he wasn’t going to be a hassle.

Maybe, when Nino got more practice in with opening, he would be more prepared early on in the weekdays and they could maybe talk for a moment.

He had this sort of humble (pathetic) fantasy of saying good morning and sharing a smile, and then maybe inviting him to sit for a minute at his table when it was slow and he had nothing to do. Give him a bit of a chance to say something more impressive than his breakfast order for a change. Actually leave an impression, maybe.

 … alright fine he might have a lot of reasons for this to be his favorite restaurant.

He felt a little warm under the collar suddenly when he admitted that to himself, frowning at his half-drained cup of coffee like it had something to do with it. And it sort of did, actually, little gestures like remembering how to make his coffee in his favorite way without having to be asked contributing to his lame little fantasies.

They were pretty harmless, he certainly wasn’t the first person to entertain a distant whimsical crush based on not much more than breakfast orders. It felt lame to call it a crush but he didn’t have a better word for it, some part of him understanding it was a little pathetic to feel that way about some random waiter he barely knew.

He was just some charming man with a bright smile and outdated lingo who thought he was pretty hilarious and was kind of right. And a warm laugh and a lot of personality, and he played video games and had a lot of neat music.

Nothing interesting about any of that.

Adrien sighed, moodily sipping his drink.

He really needed to get out more… this could not keep being the highlight of his day. He needed some other stuff going on besides a ridiculously habitual eating schedule dictated by charming men and the food their mom’s make, but he never put himself out there. He wasn’t really enthused on the idea of like… going out, and trying to go on dates and meet people, so the best he managed usually was vaguely thinking about maybe talking to some guy, only to talk himself out of it and have a staring match with the empty seat across from him.

It was pretty much just them, now was a great time, but there had been a bunch of great times. And there would probably be a couple more before he just accepted that this wasn’t his greatest strategy and he just asked him out. Which he liked to believe he might really do at some point.

He was pretty deep in thought as he approached the end of his cup, so when Nino spoke very suddenly besides him it gave him kind of a scare.

“Here you go, something for you,” he was saying, pausing to raise an eyebrow when Adrien jumped and looked up at him startled. He gave him a look, but just chuckled to himself, setting down a plate and surprising him again by taking the coffee cup from his hands and replacing it gently with a new one so he didn’t burn him. Adrien watched as Nino took his cup for himself, drinking from it casually to finish it off and gesturing to his small offering.

He was still a little confused by the fact that his waiter just stole his coffee so he could drink it, but he looked down and focused on the cute assortment of pastries and fruit that were on the plate. They were positioned hastily to look presentable, one of them a little bit burned but placed in the back to not be as noticeable. They had clearly just been made, and in a hurry, but it still looked wonderful.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked, placing his new hot coffee on the table to he could pick up one of the pastries, smiling at one of the burnt edges.

“It’s a ‘I’m Sorry your Food is Gonna Take A While’ Pastry, very rare. I make them myself, if you couldn’t tell by the fact that they’re a little burned.”

Nino’s laugh was muffled in what used to be Adrien’s coffee, Adrien laughing too as he looked up at him, a bit unprepared for the casual interaction but enjoying it.

“You made these just now? That’s very nice of you, even if you did just steal the last half of my cup.”

“I brought you a new one,” Nino defended himself, smiling again when Adrien laughed. Nino huffed a bit too though, leaning against the booth Adrien was sitting in. “I’m really glad it’s just you in here man, this is not a smooth start to the day. I feel bad about making you wait but at least I know you’re cool about it.” He groaned, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. “I’m so sorry, but whoever closed last night didn’t even count the till and we’re still waiting on our delivery so-,”

“Hey don’t worry about it! Seriously, it’s not a problem at all.” Adrien had to look nearly straight up just to talk to him, his very casual waiter practically leaning over him (not that he minded.) “If it’s easier,” he managed to continue, “I can just eat somewhere else today. I don’t want to-,”

He faltered when Nino’s eyes widened, and suddenly he was standing up straight, frantically waving his free hand.

“Oh no no no! Don’t leave, we’ve got it! I just wanted to apologize. You’re our guy I don’t want you to not get what you always do just because I’m not on top of it today. Plus I gave you apology pastries, you have to stay!”

He gestured to his ‘I’m Sorry’ plate again to emphasis his point, grinning awkwardly when his favorite patron laughed. Adrien was snickering, taking a piece of pastry and enjoying its kind of battered appearance for a moment before eating it. Nino took heart in knowing that his good sense of humor was holding out, and that he was still in the clear for at least a little while more. He really didn’t want to screw him when he was always so patient, so it was his intention to sprint to the back to finish as fast as possible so that he’d actually have something well made to bring him.

Adrien was savoring his food, aware of the fact that Nino was about to leave again and their casual chat was about to end. This was by far the best he had ever done, the two of them talking so comfortably that he was now far from tired. He was charged from the simple contact, his pastries making him feel warm, and a little braver.

He was brimming with that kind of energy a person usually feels right before they start laughing, and he was desperate not to lose it, so as Nino was starting to turn away, he suddenly spoke up again, surprising himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Nino paused, looking down at him with his body still half turned away. He must have looked confused, because Adrien immediately started explaining himself.

“There has to be something anybody could do. I’m not a cook or anything but I can unload a truck and clean counters. That would help, right?”

“You- you-…” Nino was stunned, completely caught off guard as Adrien started innocently munching on his apple slices. “You want to- wait no!” Nino blurted out as Adrien stood, looking pleased with himself.

“Doing dishes and stuff isn’t hard, and it would be one thing you and your cousin don’t have to do. It beats just sitting here and doing nothing.” Adrien lifted his plate, munching on his food as Nino started to stammer.

Of course he was adamantly refusing but now that the idea had occurred to him he was completely determined.

“No, no dude you’re like- hey wait!!”

Adrien was already walking away, happily eating his pasties and looking for something to do. Nino ran ahead of him to try and stop him, forced to walk backwards and rambling at top speed.

“No! It’s so cool of you to offer but seriously your patience is already great you don’t have to work I just needed a second to get your food!”

“But I want to,” Adrien pushed, grinning as Nino ran to block the kitchen door, looking flustered as he stood there with his outstretched hands to stop him (one of them still clutching his stolen coffee cup.)

He stopped, not wanting to barge in and stress him out but he wanted him to know that he totally meant it. Judging by his bewildered expression, he was guessing he understood that.

“Dude no you can just relax! We’ve got it we’re all over it! I mean like- thank you! But we’re already keeping you just go sit!”

Adrien stood there for a moment, mulling it over as he took another apple slice. Nino’s eyes were all over his face as he stood guard at the kitchen door, completely unprepared for this guy. He didn’t look terribly appeased with Adrien’s vague hum or smug smile either, his tone completely unconvincing.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, still too happy as he gestured with his plate towards the door. “I don’t want to keep you,” he repeated, “you’ve got a lot of stuff to do.”

 Neither of them moved, Nino clearly hesitant to leave now. He looked between Adrien and the kitchen, narrowing his eyes a little.

“… go back to your table.”

“Okay,” Adrien replied, not moving at all.

“Don’t do anything!” Nino stammered again, placing his cup down and edging towards the door but still so torn about leaving. He glanced behind him again, and then past Adrien towards the public entrance and could really feel the time he was losing when he didn’t even have a register open he could sell food with. But then he looked back at that cocky, lame guy who was just standing there happily, waiting for him to leave.

Adrien just nodded, grinning as he gestured at the door again, this time with an apple slice.

Nino hesitated again, before taking one step back, and another as Adrien just waited patiently. He could hear Ahmed working hard inside, feeling the pressure too since they were way behind schedule. His cousin was probably wondering what the hell he was doing but how was he supposed to explain this?

His back was all the way to the door when he just accepted that there was really no winning this, this guy was crazy.

They just had to see who was faster.

 Nino bolted through the kitchen door with a crash, scaring the hell out of Ahmed who was passing by with an arm full stuff but he didn’t stop, just skidding across the tile and through the kitchen and around the corner and into the office, ignoring Ahmed’s shouts completely as he ran to count money as fast as he possibly could.

The door was like a gunshot to a race, Adrien completely caught up in his own nerves at the game he created but determined to win. He left his mostly finished plate with a clatter on the counter as he ran like hell to the first task he could think of, running towards the front host stand with the only things he knew for sure. Menus, dishrags, silverware sets and cleaner.

Adrien was cleaning and setting up tables about as fast as Nino could count, the waiter frantically scribbling at the edges of their check in sheet with the cash count and kicking the safe closed. He scrambled to grab the till and sprint back out into the kitchen, ignoring Ahmed again as he ran back towards the main body of the restaurant, but he was forced to skid to a stop when Ahmed angrily shouted at him, “NINO!”

“What?!” he demanded sharply, whipping around to glare at Ahmed who was waving frantically towards the back doors.

“The truck is HERE, listen to me for a second!! I need to start loading in before we get more people.”

“Do whatever but hurry up! Get everything going I’ve got to set up!”

Both of them stiffened when they heard a distant chime, trading a frantic look between each other before turning and running with what they needed to do.

Nino busted through the kitchen door out of breath, about to call out towards the front door his standard good morning as he asked them for their patience, but he didn’t have the chance to.

He stood open mouthed in shock as Adrien cheerily called out, “Good Morning! Is it just the two of you today?” to an older couple who had just walked in. The bastard had two menus in his hands already, beaming as they answered their good mornings too.

Adrien could feel Nino standing there in disbelief with the cash till in his hands, but couldn’t bring himself to doubt in the slightest, he was just having way too much fun as he escorted their new customers to their seats. He had almost half of the tables perfectly clean and sat them in the middle of them so it all looked a bit better than it was at the moment. Nino only just got his wits about him enough to actually start setting up the register as Adrien was taking their drink order, chatting with them personably as he just jotted it down in his phone.

Nino kept looking back and forth from the screen to Adrien, who was now telling some light-hearted joke to the delight of the older woman, who actually cooed some line like “Oh aren’t you sweet?” At a glance it looked like he was even making suggestions, before giving them a little wave and promising them their coffee shortly. It was when Nino successfully clicked the till in that Adrien was nearly back at the counter, scouting around for coffee cups and looking oh so pleased with himself.

Nino was going to try and hiss something at him but could think of nothing to say, Adrien shooting him a smug glance as he busied himself with whatever he felt like, occasionally stopping to munch on his pastries. He whisked himself away before Nino could sputter something out, and eventually he could stall no longer and ran back into the kitchen with a groan.

The kitchen was empty but he could see the evidence of Ahmed’s traffic, hustling to burst out into the street outside, immediately accosted by the morning chill and the odd clean smell of produce mixed with the damp, cool smells of the back alley. The truck was backed up to the loading door of the restaurant, and he caught sight of Ahmed just in time emerging with his hands full to avoid crashing into him, spooking him once again.

“Would you STOP that!” Ahmed finally yelled irritably, teetering dangerously as his younger cousin darted around him and started grabbing anything he could get his hands on, seemingly ignoring him. “Look I can get this you need to go handle the customers; finish set up inside.”

To his surprise Nino just huffed, his voice strained as he picked up two awkwardly sized food crates. “Oh no trust me, someone beat me to it.”

“What does THAT mean?” he attempted but Nino just rattled past him unsteadily, and Ahmed was forced to just pick up the pace so he could double back for Nino’s stuff before the loser dropped it all.

 Inside Adrien was still on an adrenaline high, humming happily to himself as he polished off the last of his fruit. He had managed to clean all of the tables and the couple were happily sipping on their coffees, prepared to wait patiently for the order Adrien had only just taken. He had been looking around for something to write it on so he could pass it along to the kitchen when he had happened upon a hook laden with apron’s, so naturally he was wearing one now. Inside one of the pockets had been a misplaced pad of paper, so when Nino finally emerged in a frantic huff he was greeted with a folded slip of paper held between two fingers as Adrien triumphantly finished his coffee.

“Order for ya,” Adrien announced with a smirk, successfully cutting off whatever Nino had been about to say and waggling the paper slightly until he took it. “They only just made up their minds, so you’ve got awhile. The man’s coffee is black but the woman likes 3 creams no sugars.” He smiled, “In case you need to refill them, or I can do it, of course.”

“No!!” Nino finally spoke, so red in the face that Adrien was worried for just a second that he might actually have made him mad… but it only took a moment more for Nino’s flustered expression to become clear as he rubbed at his eyes, a laugh slipping through. And THAT made Adrien feel very brave.

They stood in relative privacy behind the counter together, the lo-fi tune and the general emptiness of the diner leaving them with each other to deal with. Nino sighed and crossed his arms, a smile still on his face even as he said, “You know I never really got that peak ‘bastard’ vibe off of you before but I have to admit it’s impressive.”

Adrien snickered, setting down his empty cup, but after a second’s thought started looking around for a place to clean it. “I have my moments,” he admitted, taking a full step towards the kitchen to find a sink to use before Nino snatched it from his hands, sliding past him to block the door again.

“What kind of pastry am I going to have to make to get you to sit down?”

“I don’t think you can top your apology pastry honestly, so I guess I can stop harassing you and go back to my booth. But then again it is a little weird for a waiter to switch out half-way through.”

Nino rolled his eyes, “I’ll tell them you went on ‘break’, now please give me a chance to make this up to you and go make your food?” He ended it like a question, since compliance was not guaranteed, but to his relief Adrien seemed to be relenting a little, taking his dirty plate with him and still entirely too happy with himself. He was really dragging his feet though, so Nino made a point to wander behind him, making a grab for his apron string which Adrien managed to dodge.

He was trying to assure his favorite waiter that he didn’t owe him anything and that he just wanted to help, but noticed after a moment that Nino was too distracted with huffing and puffing about all the clean tables and refilled salt shakers to listen, shepherding him back to his seat like he wished it had a ball and chain. The glare he got as he was finally forced back to his spot was just too good, and Adrien took his disbelieving sigh as a sign of victory.

“Now I’m going to go and make you your food and you better be sitting right here when I come back and give it to you. AND I’m going to get you another cup of coffee.” He said it almost defiantly, in a ‘and what are you gonna do about it?’ kind of way.

Adrien was going to say something charming or snarky when the door dinged again, and Nino leveled him with another glare when he turned to look. Adrien was forced to sheepishly bow his head, grinning innocently as Nino started taking steps away, walking backwards and watching him for most of the way before he finally turned around and said his standard, “Good Morning!”

 Adrien decided to play it safe after that, waiting in his booth patiently but was still bubbly enough to chuckle to himself every now and again. He kept peeking over his shoulder as Nino sat down the new patrons and took their drink orders, checking in with the older couple who had been sat before and politely explaining that the cook was just about done with everything. Normally he could get away with staring, but today he seemed to get caught every single time, Nino always glancing up in his direction as if to check he was where he should be. He’d catch him staring and smile a little, sometimes shaking his head, sometimes looking away, and every time it left Adrien with an odd spike of energy that snaked down his spine and made him chuckle again.

His stupid, showy stunt was ridiculous, looking back on it now that the hype had died down a little. He was self-aware enough to start feeling embarrassed about it, but whenever he started doubting himself or planning how to apologize, he’d think back to the disbelieving laughs or the banter and feel just a little reassured. Maybe he had been a little over-zealous, a little too eager but, for better or for worse

He finally made an impression.

 It was a short time later when the door dinged again, but to Adrien’s relief it was to signal help arriving. Another employee he recognized finally showed up to clock in, and it was only then that he really relaxed. He pulled off his cozy little apron and set it aside on the table, taking himself off standby now that Nino had another set of hands on deck. There were only two real customers to be worrying about, since at this point Adrien could honestly never get food and be perfectly content with it. He was relieved to see that he was not the first one served, the older couples’ orders coming through first and was glad to see that Nino had the sense to put him on the backburner regardless, or at least that was what he had assumed. In reality Ahmed must have just been hauling ass, because it was no time later at all that Adrien heard the familiar thunk of a plate being set down beside him.

He had been doodling in his handy dandy waiters notebook so Nino had actually managed to sneak up on him, sliding Adrien’s standard order to rest in front of him with a little more sass then was customary.

Adrien glanced up, determined to get out something witty this time, when suddenly his waiter’s momentum seemed to shift…

And he was moving to take a seat.

Adrien started slightly as Nino slid into the booth opposite him, setting down two empty coffee cups as he did and reaching for a carafe of the stuff he hadn’t noticed at first.

He felt himself going red in the face as Nino nonchalantly poured for them both, saying, “I’m sure you usually never drink this many cups in a sitting but it’s been a weird morning and you need something with your food. Plates hot, by the way.”

“I- uh,” Adrien stammered, looking down at it as an excuse to collect himself as Nino prepped his coffee the way he liked it. He was reeling from Nino’s sudden self-invite to his table, all his bold confidence from before totally evaporated by the sudden real life presence of his stupid, hopeless daydreams.  But he couldn’t just say nothing, so he managed, “I’ll have another. And uh, this looks great, thank you.”

There was another apology pastry, he noticed. Tucked right in the corner.

When Adrien finally managed to look up it was Nino who was smirking into his cup this time, living for it as it was Adrien’s turn to look a little caught out. A little bit of payback, just a touch. He didn’t start eating right away either, accepting the offered drink and scoffing a little as Nino stole a strawberry.

“I can’t really stay for too long,” he opened, and despite the fact that obviously that must be the case Adrien couldn’t help feeling disappointed. “But I wanted to take a sec to come over. I’m taking a five.”

Adrien was going to say something like ‘don’t waste your break on my account’ but couldn’t bring himself to and hesitated at the last second. Even if it was mostly placating, he didn’t want to risk him getting up and leaving. Nino took the silence and continued, leveling him with a glare he knew now to be playful.

“You bum rushing my counter was totally ludicrous. Like, I was literally just telling Ahmed about it in the back and he couldn’t believe it. He was laughing his ass off.” When Adrien started laughing he just shook his head, eating his strawberry and taking a second one. Adrien didn’t seem to mind. “Like what’s even the plan for that, I had no idea what to do so I was just like, well fuck it I guess?? I’ll count the tills.”

Adrien was laughing even harder, the other employee now taking care of tables craning their head to look at them but neither of them caring. They were both laughing after a minute, and Adrien fought through it to say, “Your face was so funny, I couldn’t help myself. It was awesome.”

“It was ridiculous but whatever,” Nino rolled his eyes, smiling too big to hide it with his cup, though he still kind of tried. “I can’t stop thinking like I owe you dude like I was freaking out about it but you actually really did help. And you waited so long for your food and you were so cool about it the whole time-,”

“You don’t owe me anything Nino, I’m serious. I was having fun.”

“No I do, I definitely do. I owe you breakfast,” Nino said matter-of-factly, but shook his head again when Adrien gestured at his plate with an eyebrow raised. “No, not that one, that one was late. And not here either like, somewhere else. Some other time.” He hesitated, and for the first time since sitting he looked a little bit nervous. “Like maybe Friday, actually. If you were free.” He paused. “Friday morning,” he clarified kind of needlessly, looking away. He glanced up once at Adrien’s stunned silence and started rambling again. “Cause uh, I’m off on Friday, and I actually have time and you are usually in here on Fridays so like, if you were free-,”

“I’d love to!” Adrien suddenly interrupted, his voice a bit rushed sounding as he surprised them both, now stammering a little himself. “Uh, I mean, yes! I’m free, on Friday. Where-…” Adrien kind of trailed off, his pulse electric as he desperately tried to keep his cool.

It was happening.

“Well um, I actually haven’t picked a place yet. I was thinking that maybe, if you didn’t mind I could just like…. text you, later. With the restaurant.”

Adrien only noticed that Nino was fidgeting with his notepad with his free hand when he put his coffee down to wrestle it out of the apron pocket, putting it on the tabletop a little bashfully and was surprised to see that Adrien had already beaten him to the pen (probably from his own apron), pulling the paper over to his side and ignoring his breakfast entirely. Nino sat there balling his apron up in his hands as Adrien quickly jotted down his phone number, sliding it back to him with an energetic smile that he returned.

Like okay maybe he had thought about doing this like a hundred times but he couldn’t believe he was actually doing it. When the hell had he grown a pair? This handsome guy had been a regular here for ages and he never actually managed to do something about it, but he could practically sense Ahmed creeping on him through the window in the kitchen door. He had already been thinking it, but it was Ahmed’s indignant encouragement that actually got him out there.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Adrien finally answered, sounding so totally earnest that Nino had no idea what to do with it, laughing with nervous excitement.

“Yeah, me too. Let someone else deal with the morning rush for once, huh?”

With that Nino got up, holding his coffee cup in his hand and smoothing his apron as he stood, and,  after a moments thought, leaned over to grab Adrien’s from the table (which he allowed without protest). He wanted to stay and get another laugh or poke fun at him or anything really, but he was so wired at this point that he just knew he was gonna fuck it up, so he did the safe thing and bailed. He traded a little wave with Adrien as he darted off to fill in Ahmed who was probably waiting to ambush him anyways, honestly a little childishly excited to share cause… he said yes. And when he risked a glance back as he fled he saw the man drop his head in his hands for a second, before he looked up again and beamed out the window. He looked so amped, Nino couldn’t stop thinking that maybe… he had been hoping? Hoping for Nino to ask him out? Had he been waiting for it? Was that why he jumped up to help had they both been-

When he crashed into the kitchen door without looking his coffee splashed against his chest, and he stumbled through it, the hot liquid catching mostly on the apron but burning his arms a little and drawing EVERYONES attention in the ridiculously quiet restaurant. He bolted through it and shut the door behind him, recoiling in on himself as he swore he heard him laughing.

 The only thing Adrien heard back from it was a text two minutes later from an unknown number that simply said, “Shut up you didn’t see that.”  

He quickly saved the contact and rushed to reply, “Lol yeah, I didn’t see anything.”

[headoverjojo]

Can I request a nsfw scenario of Bruno coming home (after the events of part 5) to his s/o who thought he was dead?

Dear anon, just know that thinking about a safe and alive Bruno coming back to his s/o right on this sad day helped me so much. Just thank you.

Also, since it wasn’t specified, I went for a fem s/o. Hope it’s ok!

Bruno Bucciarati coming home to his s/o who thought he was dead

(Under the cut for NSFW!)

The last few weeks have gone in a dazed state. Since you had received that damn call, your world became grey and lifeless. Yes, you were still going to work, you were eating and sleeping, even if just because your exhausted body shutted down, but all your actions were done in auto-pilot. Your mind wasn’t here, it didn’t want to be here.You didn’t want to think about a world without Bruno.

He was the sun. His kindness and gentleness always made you feel at ease, at home. You knew he would always be here for you as much as you were present for him. But now… now no more.

He was gone forever. You felt his presence still lingering around, not like a ghost, more like an old video tape. Sometimes you thought to have heard his voice calling you from the kitchen, but, when you rushed in, no one was there to smile at you. Sometimes you believed to have seen him walking in the crowd, to have seen the gleam of his hair pins, his face… when you approached the person, your heart broke again and again, seeing that it wasn’t Bruno.

Staying at home was almost impossible, not when it was so empty and cold, not when to your “ciao” only silence responded. Even when you were done with work, you just roamed around, with no destination, ‘till sunset. It was easier to get distracted, in the streets; at home you would have just drown in mourning and gloom.

It was after a day like this, after you returned home, ate something and then headed to bed, that your colorless world was perturbed again.

You were curled up under the blankets, your face nuzzled in one of Bruno’s jackets. The tears were long dried and your body was too tired to stay awake. You were almost dozing off, when you heard something from the other side of the house. A rummaging on the doorknob, the light creaking of the door when it was opened. Adrenaline rushed in your veins, giving you the energy to silently get up. You grabbed the first thing you found, a heavy table clock, and softly patted to your room’s door, peeking, trying to see the intruder. You saw just their back, and it was cloaked by a dark coat. You didn’t recognize them and you didn’t care: you wouldn’t have let them steal anything.

You slowly came to their back, noticing that they were leaning on the counter, as they were tired. You lifted the clock, to hit them on the back, to put them KO and have the time to call the police. But, when you dropped it, the intruder shifted, avoiding your hit. The clock crushed on the counter, breaking in one thousand pieces.

“Amore? What are you doing?” you froze, hearing that surprised and concerned voice. Oh, it couldn’t be true. It was just your imagination, as usual. How many times you thought to have heard his voice? Too many. This time wasn’t different.

The kitchen’s light came to life with a low buzz, blinding you for a moment. When you opened your eyes again, you stayed still for a long moment, staring at the man in front of you, at his unmistakable bowl cut and his oh so blue eyes full of confusion and worry.

“Amore? Are you not feeling good?” he asked again, approaching you. You retreated out of his reach, trembling and stumbling back ‘till your legs hit a chair. You sat down, since you felt wobbly and uncertain on your legs. It couldn’t be true, you… you were called by one of Bruno’s colleagues, he said that he was dead, and from death you couldn’t come back, right…?

“Please tell me you’re real and not a dream…” you whispered, trying to blinking away the tears that were blurring your sight. You felt his hands -so warm, so alive- on your cheeks, then around your shoulders and you found yourself enveloped in a warm hug. Your breath was labored from the sobs you were trying, in vain, to contain, and you lifted your hands, clinging to his shoulders, feeling his muscles under your fingers, real and alive.

He was real. He was alive and he was fine. He was again with you.

In that moment you finally let yourself break down. You hid your face in his neck, crying and sobbing loudly, clinging to him. His scent, so familiar and nice, filled your nostrils, making you weep even more. Bruno’s concern was reaching the top, at that point, but he let you cry and vent all your pain and mourning, keeping you close and gently rubbing your shoulders. You felt some kisses on your hair and temple, alongside with soft whispered words. Oh, how much you missed his voice… it was like all the music was gone with it.

“They told me you were dead…” you sobbed, trying to hug him impossibly tightly, as to keep him with you forever. He tensed a little, under your arms, and his grip on you became stronger, while he buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply.

“I was. Well… I was almost dead. Giorno saved me last second, but… I suppose that they already had called, at that point.” he explained, with a tired sigh. You sniffled, lifting your head to watch his face. Your hands came to softly caress his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. His breath tickled your fingers when you passed them on his lips, soft as you remembered. Hot, fat tears rolled again down your cheeks, before you brought him for a soft, salty kiss, sinking your hands in his silky hair. You needed to feel him under your fingers, under your lips, to have the absolute certainty that he was real, safe and alive.

Finally, your lips curled in a little smile, when you drew back from him, and Bruno smiled back, caressing your lips with his thumb.“I’m sorry to not have called you again. I… I was unconscious ‘till few days ago. I thought that you had at least received another call… I’m really sorry.” he whispered, kissing your forehead, with a deep sadness in his eyes. You slightly shook your head, resting your cheek on his shoulder, relishing in his warm and safe presence.

“I unplugged the phone, after that call. I… I didn’t want to deal with nothing else. I needed time.” you murmured, nuzzling again your face in his neck. Bruno’s arms encircled you again, keeping you close to his chest, breathing a “I’m sorry” in your hair. You closed your eyes, relaxing at the sound of his beating heart, of his regular breath. You had to repeat yourself one more time that he was alive, he was well, he was here; the thought that it was all just a dream still hadn’t totally left you.

But, if it was a dream, you wanted to savour it ‘till the core. You wanted to stay with your Bruno as much as possible, before waking up again in a world without him. So, you started to softy peppering his neck with kisses, making him gasp.

“Amore…?” you pressed your lips on his again, caressing his nape and feeling him melting under your kiss and fingers. After a while, you broke the kiss, pressing your forehead on his and gazing in his eyes, with a little smile.

“Please. I… need this. I want to feel you, to… to know that you’re real.” you murmured, sincere, staring in his eyes. Bruno read the pain and the loneliness you felt, the mourning and your sudden loss of will. He distinctly felt his heart breaking.

“I need that too.” he softly admitted, before kissing you again, pouring in that kiss all the love and the devotion he felt for you. He had to let you forget, at least for a while, about the last few weeks, he wanted to be one with you as much as you wanted to. You both would need time to completely recover, but, for that night, you just wanted to be together, finally, to have the proof that things would be fine again.

He lifted you up in his arms, softly sighing when your lips ran back to his neck, softly kissing and nuzzling the way he loved so much. Once in your bedroom, he gently lay you down on the mattress, catching your lips for another kiss, this time more passionate and deep, even if still gentle. He wanted to take things slow, to make you feel so good that you just could forget about everything.

His lips brushed your still dampen cheeks, drying them, and moved to your jaw, that he covered with soft kisses and nibbles, then to your neck, which he covered with lovely attentions, making you gasp and arching it, to give him more access. His presence was all around you, you felt him so much that you almost felt dazed and euphoric. If it was just a dream, please, that lasted a bit more…

You gasped, when you felt his lips encircling your nipple; you had almost forgotten that overwhelming sensation. He perfectly knew how much he had to suck and how to flawlessly scrape it with his teeth to the point to make you a hot mess under his mouth. His hands roamed on your body, softly caressing and squeezing, getting familiar again with your oh so missed curves, ‘till curving on your core, gently stroking it from under your pants. You bit your lips to contain a moan when his long fingers stretched you the way you loved and he knew so well, ‘till you were finally ready for him. You huffed lightly, when he withdrew his hand from your pants, but another deep kiss made you smile again.

“Are you ready, amore mio?” his breath fanned on your slightly smiling lips and you nodded, giving him a sweet peck on his lower lip.

“I’m ready, tesoro.” you hissed when he entered in you, stretching you deliciously. The warmth of his body was almost too much, but you didn’t care: warmth was life, his raspy breath on your neck was life, his soft whispers were life. You couldn’t ask for anything more.

You both wanted to take it slow and savour it as much as possible. His movements were slow and languid, gentle thrusts and slight changes of angle to perfectly hit your sweet spots. Your fingers were tightly enterwaved above your head and his lips were on yours, kissing them or murmuring soft “I love you” just grazing them. You brought your legs around his waist, keeping him impossibly closer, staring in his eyes with love and lust and a small smile on your lips.

“Don’t leave again, Bruno.” you murmured, kissing him and muffling his “never” in your mouth. Soon, the hot pool on your core began to overflow, washing you with waves of sweet and languid pleasure, so different from the type of pleasure that you usually reached with him. You pressed your forehead on his, tightening your grip on his fingers and, with your legs, on his waist. You finally came, murmuring frantic “I love you”s on his lips and a low moan, trembling under him. He followed you after few seconds, kissing you to muffle his own groans and then thrusting in you a few times more, to prolong your orgasm the way he knew you loved.

“Don’t leave me again, please…” you murmured again, bringing your now free hands to his back and hugging him tightly, rolling him on his back to lay on his chest. Bruno softly petted your hair and covered both your bare bodies with the blankets, before hugging you tightly, kissing lovingly your temple.

“I’m not going to leave you, amore mio, never. I promised that, no? I always keep my promises.” his voice was gentle and soft, a sweet lullaby that was lulling you into sleep.

“I love you, Bruno…” you whispered again, before closing your eyes and blacked out, too exhausted to say anything else.

The next morning, you woke up with your usual headache. You always got it when you cried yourself dry before sleeping… and you were living with it since weeks. You sighed, resigned to pass another day alone, without your bo… you froze, when you heard a soft and deep breath that you knew too well. You realized that your face was squished against warm skin and that a strong and firm heartbeat drummed under your fingers. You slowly lifted your head and your incredulous gaze fell on Bruno’s peaceful sleeping face. His lips, still a bit swollen from all the kisses, were slightly disclosed and his unkempt hair covered part of his face. Your trembling hand reached for his face and gently pulled the strands away, tucking them behind his ear. Your eyes stung and you buried your face in his neck, crying again, this time, tears of happiness. The dream was real and Bruno was safe with you.

All would be well, from then on, because you were together.

[supposed2bfunny]

2doc Week Day 5- Vacation

Rating: T+

Warnings: Mentions of sex and drugs/drug addiction 

“Can I be honest?” Stu asked, licking spicy red sauce off his fingers as he passed what remained of his bomba to Murdoc.

“Uh-oh,” the bassist looked at him wearily as they wandered through Parc Güell. “Here it comes.”

“Relax. I was just going to say, I’m surprised. I wouldn’t have thought Barcelona would be your first choice.”

Murdoc chewed the last bites of the potato croquette and tossed the empty container in a nearby trashcan. “Well, it was this time around. You chose Jamaica for our anniversary, I chose Spain for the anniversary of, erm, ‘D-Day.’” He tapped a finger against the singer’s temple playfully, looking into his black eyes, the result of an act of stupidity that had happened over two decades ago that they had celebrated every since.

“It was a good choice,” the singer confessed. “The castle was really cool, and I didn’t really understand most of that Dalí museum, but it was colorful. The food’s been great and the beaches in Spain are always wonderful.”

“And look at that view,” Murdoc exclaimed, sitting down on the mosaic-covered bench to point at a particularly stunning vista of the city. “You can’t beat that!”

“Yeah, that’s pretty, for sure.”

“Get in the shot, Stu, let’s get another picture for Twitter!”

“Murdoc, you’ve posted like two hundred pictures of me today alone; your followers are going to hate you!”

“Half of ‘em already do, bluebird,” he quipped with a smirk, merrily snapping away regardless of his boyfriend’s protests.

“Okay, fine, but I want a picture of the two of us,” he said after a few poses. He approached the man on the bench, reaching for his phone. “Can you figure out how to flip the camera or do you need me to—”

“I know how to get it to Selfie Mode, mate, I’m not that old!”

“Did you just call the front-facing camera ‘Selfie Mode?’”

Murdoc glared, but only for a moment, because then Stu was guiding his hand so that the angle was perfect: a shot of the two of them, cheek-to-cheek and giddy, and a view of the city behind them. They snapped one picture, two. Murdoc turned, kissed Stu’s cheek (the picture would become his home screen approximately two minutes later), then licked his cheek, earning a squeal.

“Don’t be gross when we’re in a public park!”

“Honestly, Stu, I’ve never heard such a boring string of words come out of your mouth,” he teased.

“You avoided my question,” the singer complained as they continued their walk.

“Which was?”

“Why Spain? I love it. I’m not complaining. I’ll definitely want to do this again. But why?”

Murdoc looked around, watching a small guided tour weave its way through the park, watching vacationing families with matching shirts, watching young couples, presumably on honeymoons. It was strange to observe all these people; somehow when he took trips alone with Stu, it often felt like the two of them had the world together in spite of crowds.

“We came here to promote Demon Days,” he finally said.

“Yeah. I remember that. We traveled all over Europe to promote that,” he replied.

“But it was here, in Barcelona that we started hooking up.”

Stuart slowed down then, watching the bassist carefully and struggling to remember. Those early days were a blur for him. His attempts to balance medications to keep the migraines at bay during their debut album had turned into a dangerous addiction by the second album, and whole weeks were often gone from his memory, sounding fresh when one of his bandmates would bring up a party or an interview that he couldn’t recall being present for.

“I think I remember that…we were in the hotel by the water, right? So we stayed here more than a day...”

“We were scheduled to be here four days, three nights,” Murdoc helped him out, pausing to purchase some bottled water from a cart as the heat of the day wore on. “You and I stayed an extra two days.”

Stu furrowed his brow. “Why?”

Murdoc took a sip of water, passed the bottle to the younger man. “Because you and I spent almost the entirety of the trip in my hotel room, bluebird.”

Just like that, an image of the hotel’s interior jogged his memory, and he could remember kissing Murdoc feverishly in the elevator, breaking apart when they stopped on a floor to pick up a large family before finally making it to their own floor. He could remember the master bathroom in Murdoc’s hotel suite, and taking a shower with the bassist in there. He could remember ordering room service when they were famished from their activities, and he distinctly remembered them sharing a plate of cheeses, olives, and fruit, feeding each other and giggling and kissing like lovesick teenagers.

“Oh my god,” he exclaimed. “Yeah! Now I remember! That trip was amazing! We stayed an extra two days to fuck more, not to see the sights. We went the to the beach like, once that whole time we were here.”

“Yeah,” Murdoc agreed, giving him a strange look. “I think about that trip a lot.”

“Why? Why Barcelona specifically?”

Murdoc stopped at the top of a staircase to take a few pictures of one of the dozens of Gaudí sculptures (and also to catch his breath, Stu assumed, given the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders). “Because on that trip, that’s when I realized that you were it.”

The singer stepped a little closer, letting his arm bump the older man’s. It was making his head spin to think about how close they had been, yet how emotionally distant they still were all those years ago. “Speak up, Muds,” he implored. “I want to understand.”

With a sigh, the bassist turned to look at him, clearly a little embarrassed. “Watching you sleep in the mornings when the sun rose, spending that much time with you. Mate, I knew it then. That I was never going to feel as strongly about anyone else in the world as I did about you. I knew you were the only one I would ever love.”

Stu felt his mouth go dry despite the water bottle he had been guzzling. “Oh…”

“I know,” he added quickly, “I didn’t say anything to you, so obviously nothing came of it. Not right then, anyway. I was too scared to put myself in a position like that. Especially back then! My old man was still alive, I wasn’t on meds so the hallucinations were still fucking commonplace, and also…” he let his arms drop to his sides as he looked out at the spires and palm trees wistfully.

“Go on, lovely thing.”

“I assumed that you felt it too,” he said, sounding so sad that the singer hooked an arm around his waist and pulled him close despite the hot sun. “I thought you could feel what I was feeling, so when we left Spain and continued traveling through Europe and you went back to shagging birds and acting like nothing had happened…”

“It’s all coming back to me,” he admitted. “You were insufferable after that trip. Oh god, the next few weeks, you gave me and everyone around you absolute hell. I didn’t realize you were acting out because you were frustrated with me. Muds, if you’d just told me how you felt—”

“It doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “It’s all in the past. I got a taste of what it was like to hold you for a night without all the commitment crap. Anyway, we couldn’t stay apart for long, could we?”

“We hooked up again as soon as we were back at Kong,” the singer agreed with a smile. “And all through the music video shoots. We couldn’t keep away from one another.”

“It was only a matter of time before you returned my feelings,” Murdoc joked.

“Maybe in time, you’ll want to be mine.”

“That’s it.” He agreed quietly.

A soft wind blew, and Stu brushed his bangs out of his face, brow furrowed in thought. “I never realized,” he confessed. “I thought you hated me back then, Muds.”

“I never hated you, you daft twat. Only resented you a tad. The sun might be hot in the middle of the day, burns and makes us sweat and complain, but we need it so we can snap shots like this for Instagram,” he broke away to take a picture of some flowers, leaving Stu to contemplate the metaphor that he had very intentionally cut short.

“Well, I’m sorry your first trip to Barcelona didn’t work out the way you wanted,” he said. He walked up behind the bassist, so when Murdoc turned around, he was right there, tall enough to block out the sun, dark eyes fixed on the older man. “But I hope this trip makes up for it.”

He had intended to kiss his boyfriend then, but it felt too aggressive given the history that they shared in the city, too much like something that he would have done when he was younger and wilder and always carrying switchblades around for no good reason. Instead, he took Murdoc’s hand and kissed it. They were in a country filled with castles; let him act like a prince for once in his life.

It did the trick, because Murdoc’s eyebrows shot up behind his fringe and he sputtered uselessly, too flustered for words for a shocking five, ten, fifteen seconds.

“You incorrigible sap,” he finally managed. Quite mild as far as Murdoc Insults went.

“That’s me,” he replied with a grin, and Murdoc was already lacing their fingers together, guiding them out of the park and to their next destination in the city. “Thank you for telling me all that. Makes me all the more eager to savor every second of time with you now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grunted, “Don’t be too cheesy or I’ll toss you into one of the fountains.”

Stu laughed. “Fine. Where are you taking me next?”

“First, lets get some ice cold cervezas. Then, I’m thinking a siesta before we hit the beach.”

“Sounds perfect. Y’know, you’re actually quite good at planning these tips, Muds.”

“Of course I am,” Murdoc replied, swinging their hands between them as they walked, uncharacteristically playful. “I’ve been planning how I would woo you since the first time we stepped foot in this city, mi corazón!”

[sassyhazelowl]

Title: Life is What You Bake It Rating: PG - a few swear words, comedic violence Pairing: Lyon x Erza Secondary Pairings: Lucy x Levy, Gray x Lisanna A/N: A challenge piece. 10k in 10 days. Random pairing, random genre, random AU setting. Bakery AU. @dragonshost @impracticaldemon

Link to Full Story in Google Docs - Comments welcome and appreciated :)

Chapter 10

"Before you go, we have to talk."

Lyon paused in packing the Subaru he'd traded his Roadster in for at the beginning of the summer. Toby, who had been tagging at his heels, also turned to look, ear flopping over comically. While the gangly puppy had become beloved of all in the Heartfilia residence, he'd taken a particular liking to Lyon. Rarely were the two apart, Toby being his second shadow.

"Certainly."

Erza hadn't been expecting such a gracious answer and she lingered nervously to watch him pack the rest of the car. The man had been snappy and short with everyone all week, and Erza hadn't escaped his sharp tongue. Although Gray took the brunt of it; the two had a spectacular fight and weren’t on speaking terms.

Truly, the only one who remained unscathed was Wendy, his teenage student he'd been training to take over his job.

With her, Lyon was all proud smiles and shoulder pats. Erza felt like she was looking at what kind of father he'd be, and she often had to look away, lest she be betrayed by parts that weren’t her brain.

Jellal was gone but she still hadn't sorted out her feelings for Lyon since their talk. And there were feelings, lots of feelings. But the main one was the panicked feeling, like she was running out of time. And now… time was up.

"Have you..." she swallowed, losing her courage by the minute. Facing down a bear raiding a dumpster? No problem, she was fearless. But anything with feelings? She felt lost. Fumbling. Anxious and confused. "Seen the video?"

Lyon shut the trunk, bending down to ruffle the young dog's ears without answering for a long moment. Toby leaned his whole body into the caress, tongue lulling and massive paw dangling in the air. He was going to be a monster of a dog.

"I forgot to."

Forgot? How… that was not something you’d forget.

"But you knew about it. Them. The Youtube channel."

Lyon's gaze was guilty as he looked up to meet her eyes, "I was too distracted to watch, but I spoke with a fan about it at the bakery. Gray puts the tutorial videos up but he never had permission to put up our lessons. I apologize."

This suddenly got a lot harder. She'd been expecting he'd seen and knew what was on the videos. It wasn't exactly something she could put in front of him and surprise him with, the way Jellal had her.

"I will remind him to take those down."

So he hadn’t forgot; not really. He already knew and had no plans to watch them. Well, of course, he was there. He probably wasn’t as oblivious to his feelings as she was.

"Actually," she cut in, holding up the mail she'd been sitting on. After seeing the video, the bakery's success started making more sense. And so did the letters. "I think the reason Fairy Tail is doing so well is because of Youtube. These are fan letters. They are addressed to the bakery..."

"Let me guess, they are addressed to the very cute couple at the bakery?" he added wryly, little humor behind his smile. "People do love that sort of thing."

Did he have to make this so difficult? She was trying to have a serious conversation here, and already he was deflecting with snide words.

"Strange accusations from a romantic," she said firmly, daring him to contradict her. He didn't. Gray had a loose tongue when drunk, and Erza didn't remember much from that night, but she did distinctly remember those words. It seemed funny, since Gray wouldn't know romance if it bit him on the butt.

"There is a lot of hate and distrust and greed in this world. Trust me, I know; I am an attorney. Appreciating love and beauty is a natural response, I believe."

She hadn't expected that. While she appreciated nature and liked other people, she rarely took the time to think about it, let alone appreciate it. She expected him to follow it up with a flirt, but he was watching her quietly.

"True."

"Erza, I..." he stumbled a bit over his words then and she held her breath, "Appreciate your kindness and generosity. And Magnolia for being my second home. Thank you. And... good-bye."

He leaned forward, placing a very chaste but very emotional kiss on her forehead.

Oh no. No. No. No. It was a slow moving horror movie without the monster or music watching him stride to the car, get in and roll down the road.

While she was frozen, the car pulled away down the driveway. She felt like she was losing him forever, and she was not going to do another Jellal because she was afraid of rejection. But she couldn't seem to call out or move.

Toby, on the other hand, sprung into action.

"Toby, no!”

The puppy tore down the road, loping along side the car, sorely put out he was on the outside instead of the inside. As Lyon slowed down, he launched himself through the open window, pulling his body in and landed in the man's lap.

By the time she'd caught up, the two spilled out the door in a tangle of limbs and yelps.

"Someone does not want you to go," she commented, hiding a laugh at his predicament. He grunted as the dog paw hit his gut, and Erza reached down to help him up. He hesitated, their fingers brushing, before committing. She heaved him up with ease, pushing off Toby and pulling him in.

Face to face, he looked hopeful but his tone held flirty bravado, "Is that someone you?"

"It might be."

"It would be awfully rude of me to disappoint a lady."

She moved to shove him but instead her fingers curled into his collar, tugging him close so their noses brushed and pants mingled. Just like when they first met, he met her gaze too long, too openly, but this time she met it back.

"Stay.” It came out a whisper, “Please?"

He gravitated forward so their lips touched softly, smirking, "Well, if you say it so nicely, I have no choice. May I?”

Borrowing one of his favorite phrases, she grinning into the beginning of the kiss, “Certainly.”

[alleiradayne]

SPN MinnCon Day 3

You know what, I’m pulling the I-just-gave-birth-to-a-tiny-helpless-human card. That’s why I didn’t get back to this sooner. Also my mom and aunt were in town helping out a ton but it also kept me away from Tumblr most days.

So. MinnCon Day 3. This day was the day for me. I had been looking forward to the whole weekend for months. But truly, this day was something that I had been freaking out about for about two weeks for two reasons. 1.) Jared Photo Op. 2) Jared 30 Minute Meet and Greet.

I’ll preface this with the fact that I am a dyed-in-the-wool Jared/Sam stan. I cannot get enough of him and his smile and his sense of humor and his hair and his compassion and his empathy and his brain and his eyes. Okay, yeah, I love the 6′4″ mansuit he inhabits, too.

When you read this, you’re going to see a lot of Jared. A decent bit of Jensen, too (I took a lot of pictures of him). But I’ll be writing a lot more about Jared. Except for the meet and greets. Which... ugh, I wish I could tell you guys about his 30 minute meet and greet as well as his 10 minute for VIP. But I can’t. :(

Buckle up bitches, this shits long...

It was the first picture I took.

The day started out with the Gold Panel. If you haven’t seen it yet, my fellow VIP’er, Sue, gave Jared a thing of cupcakes when he called on her for a question and she didn’t have one ready. So she asked him if he wanted a cupcake. There’s rules about giving them food; I guess they’re not supposed to take it, but Jared was like, “Uh shit yeah I want a cupcake.”

He was only supposed to take one for each of them. But I don’t think he could hear her very well. So he took the whole thing. I was supposed to eat one of those fucking cupcakes.

And then:

CUPCAKEPOCALYPSE

It went on for several minutes. Jared dropped the cupcakes (THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO EAT) and made a giant mess. A creation staff person came out to help, a fan offered baby wipes, and Jensen had to help clean Jared’s face.

“Help a brother out, man.”

“You are beyond help.”

Brothers. I swear.

Questions were fun and it was during this panel that I could tell that the day would be distinctly different from previous con’s Sundays. We all know Jared is quite a bit more talkative than Jensen. But today, that would not be the case. Someone put a quarter in Jensen...

He’s so pretty.

Again, I’m not sure what someone said (I know I could go watch the video but, time) but Jensen busted out the imaginary popcorn.

And then there were more wonderful pictures of Jared.

See. Lots of Jared.

If you want to see ALL of the pictures I took (and edited) from the entire weekend:

GO HERE

The flicker album will be available until flickr decides to get rid of free accounts or whatever nonsense Yahoo wants to do with flickr.

After the gold panel I had Jared’s 30 minute meet and greet and his photo op. I was hoping that by waiting to post this, I’d have my .jpg from Chris, but I don’t.  The meet and greet was fantastic. There were 20 people in that session, and we drew numbers for seats. I got number 6 which ended up being right in the middle of the front row. I don’t know how I got so fucking lucky...

I got to ask my very weird question and got a very cogent and incredibly self-aware answer that kind of blew me away. And we even had time to sneak in my follow-up, which also resulted in another ridiculously self-aware response. And he remembered these questions because he later brought the topic up again at the 10 minute VIP.

Now the photo op. I’m pretty sure this interaction tops the entire weekend (just sneaking past his autograph and getting a smooch from Rob Benedict). Remember the fact that I’m 37 weeks pregnant. I had no clue what the hell to do for this photo op. I was wearing my self-made maternity “Love Yourself First” t-shirt, all black, with red/black buffalo plaid. I don’t know if it was entirely obvious that I was pregnant as I walked up to Jared for my op.

The VIP folks with his op got to go first. I opted, out of the four of us with his op, to go last. I walked up as Bang A Gong (Get It On) played, and whenever there is music playing, I cannot help but dance a bit. So my dumbass does my white-girl shimmy up to him and he laughed as he did his own short dance, but then proceeded to damn near do the splits to take the picture. I’m 5′4″. He’s 6′4″. I definitely didn’t want to take a picture with my face at his sternum. He knew that.

But other than that I didn’t know what to do. So I told him that. Here’s the conversation:

“Hey. I really don’t know what to do because she’s in the way,” I said as I pointed at my very-much-in-the-way-pregnant-stomach.

Jared’s eyes popped when he looked and then immediately started rubbing my stomach. Now normally, I would not have been okay with some rando touching my pregnant stomach without asking.

Jared Padalecki is not some rando. And he asked, “How far along are you?”

I laughed as I said, “I’m due in three weeks.”

If I thought his eyes popped before, they damn near fell out of his head at that. He replied, “Holy shit, how the fuck are you on your feet?! That is so badass, I can’t believe you’re here!” He held up his hand for a high-five, which I did, and he grabbed my hand to hold on to it. He then asked me my name. I told him and mentioned I’d been to the con last year with my sister and she was sad she couldn’t make it this year. And he then said, “Jeanna, awesome, I’m so sorry your sister couldn’t be here. But, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” I told him I was great and that I’d been looking forward to this for months even though I’m huge and was really nervous about this photo op.

He then pulled me into him, wrapped his arms around me (like he does for most of his ops) and we took the picture. With his arms still around me, he looked me in the eye and said, “It was wonderful to meet you again. I am so glad you are here and that you’re doing so well. Is this your first?”

“Yup.”

“I am so happy for you, that’s awesome. I remember Gen had the pregnancy glow, you look absolutely stunning, you’re rockin’ it hard. Thank you again for being here. I’ll see you again later in VIP.”

I thanked him and hugged him once more and he kissed the top of my god damn head.

And then I left the photo op room. As I was walking out of the room, a fellow VIP’er was waiting for me and saw me walking out. I think I had the worst dead-eyes face on because she said, “What happened?! Did something go wrong with your op?!”

And I said, “No. It was amazing I’m fucking speechless and don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m forgetting something. I... don’t know what to do all of a sudden.”

“Breathe, honey. You’re forgetting to breathe.”

You’re god damn right I was forgetting to breathe. I mean, this just happened:

I couldn’t have asked for a better photo.

Moving on...

Next was Mark Pellegrino’s panel which was stellar. I love him.

Rob came out eventually and was giving Mark the Dad stare. I kinda wish Rob would look at me like that... eh, @atc74?

And then there was some funny God and His Children interactions.

Such a stellar cast.

And then there was the Jensen and Jared main panel.

Guys. Gals. There are so many fucking pictures I took. Here’s a random sampling:

It was an amazing panel. Like I said someone put a quarter in Jensen and he was just on point this year. Compared to other cons and videos I’ve watched, he really came out of his shell at this event and put on an amazing show with Jared. I absolutely recommend watching all the videos from this convention because they are so worth it.

After the main panel was Mark’s, Jensen’s, and Jared’s 10 minute VIP meet and greets. Holy shit were they great. Again, can’t really talk about them, but I got to sit next to Jared and he doesn’t understand personal space. I’ll leave it at that.

The night ended with autographs. I hit up Jared’s first, which in hindsight wish I’d done last but oh well. I hopped in line and when he saw me he said, “Remind me how long you’ve got?” as he reached out and touched my stomach again. I told him it was three weeks out and he smiled and shook his head as he said, “Damn, you are a fucking trooper. Congratulations again. Keep kickin’ ass.” He signed the photo, thanked me, and I thanked him. Right as I stepped away, he said, “You tweet that baby’s picture right away! I wanna see her face!”

I did tweet a picture, but I don’t think he saw it. That’s okay, I didn’t really think he would.

Jensen was next, who I had sign my J2 op from the previous year with my sister. While signing, his mala bead bracelet got stuck on the table cloth. My first thought was to say, “What did you do, Ray?” in my best Winston impression. And Jensen didn’t miss a beat. “I couldn’t help it. It just popped in there...”

Thanks for knowing your Ghostbusters references, Jensen.

Last but not least was Misha. Aside from his 10-min meet and greet, I’d never really interacted with him. There was a short wait for him as he finished up his Castiel photo ops. My VIP liaison and I were waiting together because she had an op for his auto too. And then he arrived, got settled and waved us over. I had him sign the first op my sister and I ever got from 2016 with Misha and Mark Sheppard. Mark had signed it last year.

And Misha remembered from VIP on Saturday that I was pregnant and asked me about it. When I told him it was a girl, he said, “Oh yeah, you’re gonna love it, it’s stupidly fun. Picked a name yet?” and I told him we decided on Elizabeth. His response was, “How cool, my sister’s name is Elizabeth. You have fun with that baby and don’t listen to anyone. Follow your gut. Science, too. But trust yourself. You got this.”

And then we were done. I went back to the VIP room, helped clean up a bit, gathered my stuff, and headed for my car. The second I walked out of the room, I started crying because... it was over. Everything was done, all the things I’d been looking forward to for months were... done. Just like that, in the blink of an eye, the weekend was behind me.

I’m still not over it. I’m waiting for the next opportunity to meet them all again. I called my sister in that moment of sudden sadness and told her that we absolutely had to do VIP together at Chicago, or hope they come back to Minneapolis soon. I can’t imagine doing a con without VIP again.

And the weekend wouldn’t have been what it was without all the people I met and new friends I made. You’re all wonderful and amazing and I can’t thank you enough for how welcoming you all were.

I hope you all enjoyed reading these. I think I’ll put a master post together to link to all three parts/days and add a link to the flickr album there as well. Thanks again for reading!

[otakween]

Parasite Eve (The Novel) - Review

And now, for something completely different. I realized that with my main Project Alpha (watching all anime in alphabetical order) I would be missing out on somethings that don’t have anime but are still otaku related. Therefore, I will be doing two side projects for A. video games that don’t have anime and B. manga that don’t have anime. I’ll probably add other projects as I go. 

First game alphabetically on my list for video games is Parasite Eve (thanks to 3rd Birthday). Turns out, the game is actually a sequel to a novel. Instead of reading it and then writing a review, I decided to review as-I-go so this post will be pretty lengthy.

Thoughts:

Part 1 Prologue & Development)

-The vibes I’m getting from this are Frankenstein combined with Junji Ito (yes, I know he adapted that recently). The mysterious heat thing feels distinctly J-horror. Maybe because they’re so into body horror?

-I’m still not sure if “Parasite Eve” is supposed to refer to a woman or an event. Maybe that’s the point?

-So main “villain” is kind of omnipresent microorganism who can control minds? I hope they explain how it works eventually

-Holy research, Batman! All of the medical and scientific scenes are really impressive to me. They feel like they were written by a real doctor. I want a “making of” feature lol.

-Creepiest bits so far are the opening car accident (reminded me of Bird Box a little) and the extremely in-depth surgery descriptions definitely had me feeling squeamish

-The characters already feel well-developed and distinct. I can tell because I’m having no trouble remembering their names lol

-I know it’s all medical necessity but the transplant scenes did feel very violating. It was also creepy that the author chose to describe a braindead woman’s body in vaguely sexual terms

-The politics about braindead bodies in Japan vs. America adds a really interesting layer to the story. Also, the feelings of people who experience failed transplants. These are both things I had never really considered. It’s attention to detail like this that makes this story feel more realistic and immersive.

-I’m wondering how the “villain” will manifest herself? Is it going to be like Tomie where she grows put of the organs? Is she going to possess the donors or become a clone of Kiyomi. We’ll see!

Part 2 (Symbiosis)

-Okay, now I have a much better idea of how “Eve” works. The descriptions of her taking over her host’s body and mind were nice and creepy. The horror of the situation is that it’s not really something you could report or ask for help without seeming crazy and being locked up or put on drugs.

-I said the first part reminded me of Junji Ito and Frankenstein. This second part reminded me of Get Out, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and Saya no Uta. I guess I could throw in Brain on Fire as well with all the memory lapses.

-I much prefer the subtle horror of the novel to the monster-attack style horror. I found the scene where Asakura is attacked by Eve just felt really cheesy. It was one of those horror scenes where the victim is being attacked by a very slow moving creature and they probably could have escaped like a million times. Her immediately kneeling down on a mug she shattered also felt pretty silly.

-So Eve is mitochondria? I guess? And she’s existed since the beginning of time but needed science to progress to where it is today to help her evolve. That’s creative but pretty out there. It’s confusing because she obviously has to be more than one mitochondrion at once and she also refers to other mitochondrion as her sisters even though they both came from Kiyomi. I guess I’ll just try not to overthink things…

-Things suddenly got very sexual at the end of part 2 and I cannot unsee certain things D: I’m not really sure what Eve’s end goal is here. Is it just to be all yandere for Toshiaki or does she want to take over the world as a new species or something?

-I really enjoy how much insight we’re getting into Mariko and Kiyomi’s characters. Horror is always more effective when you care about the characters and understand who they were before everything went wrong.

-Pretty stupid of Mariko to not take her pills, it’s kinda hard to see her side of things on that one. It’s interesting to see her dad and the doctor grappling with this trouble child.When they called her behavior “autistic” it was kind of jarring though. Not sure how I feel about that.

Part 3 (Evolution)

-Oh…OH. Okay. I was warned that this book is trippy and this is where stuff starts to go DOWN. Where’s my brain bleach…

-F’real though, the 3rd part was basically nonstop madness and body horror. I was on the edge of my seat but also cringing throughout the whole thing. I must have been quite the sight reading this on the train, I could just feel my eyes widening at some of the more out-there scenes.

-So it gets extremely sexual and there’s some rape going on which of course is always hard to read. It makes sense for the plot tho so I was ok with it. Logically, Eve 1 would need to “evolve” through reproducing. Some of the descriptions made me kind of side-eye the author tho like “Are you enjoying this a little too much?” I dunno. it was just a lot.

-Really intense body horror. The descriptions of people slowly dying by fire were especially lovingly crafted (lol). I liked that they explained the logic behind mitochondria having that ability and compared it to spontaneous human combustion

-Team Toshiaki was pretty badass at the end there, working together to save Mariko. I’d be on the next plane out of the country lol

-I’m glad Toshiaki was redeemed in the end. It’s not like he really did anything wrong since he was basically brainwashed.

-I wonder if any book characters will appear in the games? I don’t know how far apart the stories are but it would be fun to get some cameos. I wanna see Mariko come back for revenge lol

-What crazy person thought this would make a good video game??? I mean, good for them, but if I didn’t know already about the franchise I would not be reading this thinking “mm yeah. Awesome game material right here.” It’s mainly science and practically all-powerful mitochondria monsters. And you fight those with guns or something? Okaaay…

Epilogue

-Dang! Major jealousy feels. I wish I was graduating grad school rn (but 6 years…damn. I could never be a research student).

-Of course it ends with a super complicated scientific explanation. I’m really glad it did though. I didn’t really understand what was going on with the male-female thing.

-Typical horror movie sting foreshadowing sequels at the end. Creeeeepy.

-It’s pretty hilarious how Asakura is like “man, what a year amirite??” YOU CAUGHT FIRE AND WERE ATTACKED BY A MITOCHONDRIA BLOB THAT KILLED YOUR MENTOR!

-Oh snap. The book has a bibliography. Mad props to the author who of course has his PhD in pharmacology. It’s always great when super smart people create something like this for us plebes.

I’m super glad I read this! I don’t read a ton of horror (even though I’m a big horror movie fan) and this was a great re-introduction into the genre. Although I found it a little over-the-top at times (borderline cheesy) it was super smartly written and refreshingly original. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the franchise has in store for me!

I give Parasite Eve a 8.5 out of 10