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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 1 year ago

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I'd Like to Adopt These Side Characters, Please (And Also Make One Arbitrarily To Appease The Vibes)

So, I've already mentioned my plans to write something for our dear single-minute-of-screentime-boys from the FNAF movie. And, as per usual for me, posting some headcanons will help the ideas flow for that WIP. . .

___

Jack Samar

His passengers always are, in fact, "the weirdos." It just seems to happen without fail. College partygoers crashing down from adrenaline (among other things) highs, random drifters that could all probably be in the same cult if you pay attention to detail, that one guy who's all too happy to take advantage of the open secret that the ducks in the park are free. . .Most of the time, it's nothing too serious. But he's still got some very interesting stories here and there.

He's one of the best drivers in town. And that's not just due to his job as a cabbie; he knows how dangerous driving can be, so he takes pride in making sure his skills are sharp. (Seriously, if you've ever driven a car, then you know it's practically a miracle to see someone else on the road who actually knows what they're doing.)

He has a steel-trap memory; he knows every part of town like the back of his hand. Constantly driving on various routes just has that effect on you.

He's a bit of a rescuer. As in, if he happens to see a stray animal while driving, then he'll park, coax said animal into the car, and then drop it off at at the local shelter. If you have him drive you from Point A to Point B, there's a good chance you'll spot a scruffy-looking cat or dog riding shotgun.

If he isn't too tired at the end of his shifts, he'll drive over to Sparky's for a late-night snack before heading home to rest. Both he and Ness are good listeners, so a decent chunk their banter is dedicated to venting about sucky patrons.

He's certainly aware of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria, as well as the rumors surrounding it, but he never really bothered with the place. And he doesn't plan to start bothering with it after seeing Golden Freddy in the back of his taxi.

Although. . .well, that occurrence might have made him start weighing the pros and cons of trying to get more information out of Mason. (He's very much hesitant about it, of course. Yeah, he was the one to help Mason out, but the assumption of Mason's experience with Freddy's is still far from pleasant.)

(Yes, his name is a pun inspired by Cory's samurai joke. What did you expect from me?)

___

Ness Aeoruhndbt-Ultendera

"Ness" is only his nickname, but he doesn't plan on revealing his full name anytime soon. Not even to his friends, for whatever reason. There's also a bit of an inside joke about how his surname is too long to actually fit on his nametag. (Yes, that gibberish my personal idea for his surname. I spent way more time working on it than I probably should have because I was determined to make a weird/funny reference, so leave me alone, okay?!)

He's been in the restaurant business ever since he was a kid; he's worked in several different joints before Sparky's. Coming from a family of foodies, he truly enjoys what he does, no matter how small-scale. Sure, some days are worse than others, but that's just life.

Similarly to Jack, it's not that uncommon for him to serve some strange characters. (Hell, sometimes the strange characters in question will wave down Jack's cab right after they've finished their meal at Sparky's.) Nothing usually comes of it, but he's still more than observant enough to pick up on certain oddities.

He makes a genuine effort to be polite and outgoing with customers. But make no mistake, he absolutely can, has, and will verbally curb-stomp someone if they push him or his coworkers too far. (Aunt Jane was lucky that her jab was minor. Plus, Ness just had other customers to focus on.)

It's no surprise that he LOVES conspiracy theories. Now, he knows which crackpot rabbit-holes to avoid, but he's still the type to listen to true crime podcasts almost religiously. In a way, researching and brainstorming is a comfort to him.

He's actually developed legitimate friendships with a specific few of Sparky's regulars. (Jack and Mason are part of this camp.) In fact, if there aren't many other customers that need tending to, he'll sit down and chat with them while they eat.

While he's perky during the day, he's still a night owl. It helps that his regular-friends almost always stop by in the late hours. (This has also paved the way for him to become a bit of a coffee-addict, but not to the point of concern. Speaking of which: he takes great joy in people's reactions to his argument that coffee is actually a type of soup.)

Oh, and that rubber-chicken-head-pencil-topper? Its name is Fabio, and Ness has been carrying it for several years now. He can't remember where/when/how he came into possession of Fabio, but you can pry it from his cold, dead hands.

___

Mason Kingsley

I wasn't originally planning to make a technical fanego for the FNAF movie. But after I learned that Mark was intended to make a cameo, I was intrigued. Thus, Mason—aka Trauma Boi—was born. His inclusion here (and in that future story I mentioned) is basically just a "What if?" scenario. As in, A. What if Mark had actually played the role of that first nightguard in the movie, and B. what if he'd actually survived his ordeal at Freddy's. . .?

Please read "survived," as "escaped by the skin of his teeth with grievous injuries and is now sort of dead inside."

Fittingly enough, Jack happened to by passing by when Mason fled the restaurant. It's pretty damn easy to stop for a guy who's covered in blood and cradling a broken arm and screaming for help.

After Jack drove Mason to the hospital, the two of them made an effort to stay in touch. Their respective patronage to Sparky's helps out with that.

Time passed, as it tends to do, and Mason eventually recovered. Keep in mind that the recovery was physical; he's still having night-terrors about animatronic monsters. Just the mention of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria will make him start shaking and murmuring under his breath, pale and tense.

He absolutely refuses to talk about the incident in detail, but it left some very obvious scars on his neck, chest, and arms. He's constantly trying to keep said scars covered.

Silver lining: shortly after recovering, Mason was able to adopt a therapy pet. Enter Checkers, a golden retriever who's just the best emotionally-tuned girl and is always by his side.

He stops by Sparky's for dinner once or twice per week. He wasn't too receptive to Ness' chitchat at first, but by now they have a solid friendship. (It started when Ness "accidentally" brought out a large side of bacon with Mason's order. Checkers most certainly appreciated that, so it's become a small tradition between them.)

(And just to clarify, because I KNOW someone is gonna read this and take it the wrong way: I'm NOT using this to try and whine about Mark's absence in the movie. It's really not too hard to understand that his own Iron Lung project has kept him INCREDIBLY BUSY. It's an amazing accomplishment for him, so of course it should take priority over a cameo in FNAF.)

___

@sammys-magical-au @that-bat @bee-the-matpat-simp @insane4fandoms

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bodybeyondstories · 8 months ago

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Rapid Expansion Mechanism - 1

Amir signs up for an experimental sleep study to make some extra cash, then starts having strange dreams about people around him growing wildly out of control. He's not all that concerned.

maleTF // growth // butt growth // dick growth // nsfw

4340 words

Note: I was really interested in dreams and dreaming, the impacts of the immaterial on material worlds, etc etc. Also thinking about playing around more intentionally with body horror as a theme. This is a little heavy on the exposition, I was having fun with a l'il bit of worldbuilding. We'll all have to see where it goes I guess.

---

[lol I think you were in my dream last night]

Amir stared at his phone for ten minutes, waiting for a reply. Stared at the ceiling for another ten waiting for the telltale double vibration of a text notification. The sunrise dusk began to shift into a muddled overcast morning. He lay in bed waiting for some outside force to begin the day for him as the world progressed on its own.

He’s probably still asleep, he thought. He probably woke up to the notification from me, reluctantly opened it, cringed and went back to bed. Telling someone you dreamt about them after a first date is insane. He began to berate himself with clarity as his sleep-addled thoughts cleared. This guy’s barely been rid of you for twelve hours and you’re sending good morning texts as if he’ll actually respond. You’re supposed to be playing it cool. That’s what people do, right? They play it cool.

He needed coffee. He needed coffee and he needed to stop beating himself up. I’m a perfectly fine focus of someone’s attention. A catch even, sort of, sometimes. I would love to hear about my weird REM sleep adventures. None of this felt reassuring.

The dream! I’m supposed to be recording my dreams, he remembered, one hand flailing around the side table until it landed on a small spiral notebook. He eased deeper under the covers to try and convince his body that it was not actually waking up yet and should let him hold on to the opaque montage of sounds and images slowly flushing out of his brain. He squinted in the gray dawn light, putting pen to paper and letting memories flow without interpretation or context, as instructed.

The date with Dex last night. He’s sitting across the table from me and he’s talking about something, I can’t make out what he’s saying, the sound is garbled and woozy but he’s talking about something and there’s something creeping up under his shirt, bulging and pulsing higher and higher but he’s still just talking and eventually it reaches the top and his brown cockhead pokes out, it’s leaking precum, continues expanding upward and he’s still just talking as it gets girthier and rips his collar and he’s just ignoring it and everyone else seems to be ignoring but I feel more and more anxious, no, terrified, I can see it stretching and lurching higher and bigger and he moves his head to the right to maintain eye contact with me and it’s gushing all over the table and he’s still just talking like having a liter bottle thick schlong arcing past your head is the most normal thing on a date and eventually the rest of his clothes rip and his dick slams onto the table and everything goes flying and I’m staring right into it getting ready to blow and it erupts and…

Amir paused in thought, pen in hand. The memories had slipped out so easily onto the pad in his lap and were now completely gone from his head. All he had was the scribbled description of the strange scene and the still image of Dex and that…thing erupting from his body and the phantom sensation that something was very wrong. His heart was beating fast in anxiety or anticipation, he couldn’t tell. I’m already having sex dreams about this guy? This dry spell is ridiculous, he thought, seeking to convince himself that that’s all it was. Pent up sexual frustration and anxiety leading to one too many drinks.

He looked at the notepad laying in his lap with trepidation. I guess it is good to have a space to think through whatever weird bullshit is bouncing around your unconscious, he thought, sure that somewhere he’d read that it’s good for your mental health to make a practice of writing your dreams. He hoped that that was the only reason they had him doing it.

He’d had an appointment the day before with a sleep study research trial. He'd been referred to a specialist for his insomnia, but lacked the coverage for it until he started a new job. So he ended up signing up as a subject with some place called Phantasy Labs that he had never heard of but apparently had a huge research campus nestled in the woods just outside of town. Some kind of experimental startup with more money than God and not a huge public presence. Not that he thought much of it beyond the pay was decent and he needed the cash. He figured whatever it is, he’d probably get the placebo anyway.

I need to get out more, Amir mused as he cruised through the heavily wooded grounds of Phantasy Lab’s campus, marveling at the fact that he’d apparently never seen this landscape before. He craned his neck back and forth at impossibly tall oaks with great beards of Spanish moss, their tops forming a crown shy cathedral far above that let in just enough dappled light to see the road. The pavement was well manicured, resembling a reddish brown clay, winding its way through the forest with meandering curves, making for a delightful cruise through nature but preventing him from seeing too far ahead or too far behind. Visibility quickly became poor as he gazed into the gloom of the densely wooded landscape, tricks of the light occasionally producing brief glimpses of what looked like figures moving furtively among the trees, too big to be anything he recognized.

But it was just him ambling in his beat up Civic with mismatched hood, no other hints of this supposed facility beyond the occasional sign inviting him to continue along this path, as if there were anywhere else to go. Eventually, and somewhat reluctantly, the trees parted to release him, revealing the squat structure that he took to be the research facility. The road gentled him to the right and he cruised along, looking for a parking lot but seeing only the great wall of trees on the right and the seamless, continuous curve of the building to his left. He continued on for what felt like ages, convinced he had to have circled the building at least twice if not for the occasional break in the scene of what looked like experimental farm plots with unusually large crops. He’d heard of giant pumpkins but had never seen eggplants that could eclipse his entire leg or peaches the size of his head weighing down the branches of a tree. This was all being tended to by the only human presence he had seen so far, gardeners who looked fit to bursting out of their work coveralls, some of them going so far as to rip the sleeves off or crop the pant legs to free up surprisingly juicy quads. He wondered if they were hiring.

Eventually he saw a car symbol on the smooth wall of the building. As he pulled up to it, an invisible seam unzipped from top to bottom, revealing an interior space just large enough for his car, with no discernible light source yet softly lit nonetheless. He idled in, pulling to a stop as lavender text appeared on the solid wall in front of him: “Welcome to Phantasy Labs. Please put your car in park, turn it completely off, and proceed to the door on your left.” A series of dots of soft light began to appear along the wall, running to the left from the text around to an outline of a doorway. As he approached, the wall unzipped itself, and more lavender text appeared above: “Remember to gather your things. We’re so happy you’re here.”

He turned around just in time to see his car being soundlessly lowered into the floor, towards what he hoped was some sort of underground garage. He made a mental note to ask someone about that, then stepped through the entryway into a massive foyer. The space was expansive, significantly taller than the building appeared from the outside, the curvature of the walls dominated by rounded hexagonal windows that ran from floor to ceiling, providing a view of the monumental trees outside, and far in the distance, the tops of the city skyline.

A smattering of people who seemed well trained in looking busy were milling about, heading from one unzippering portal to another, none bothering to acknowledge his existence. The only direction was given by the familiar lavender dots of light, now appearing along the floor, and progressing as he followed them along to the wide, swooping reception desk.

“Hi,” he said, walking up to a welcome desk that seemed the manifestation of minimalist efficiency. “I’m–”

“Amir,” the receptionist said, without pausing in their tapping against a keyboard of lavender light embedded in the surface. “Welcome.”

“I’m here for the–”

“4 o clock REM study. Sapp is in the lab now, looks like he’s just about ready for you. Please double check the liability waiver and the NDA,” they said, as two streams of text appeared side by side on the wall behind them, scrolling just fast enough for Amir to keep up before a signature pad appeared directly in front of him on the surface of the desk. He scribbled his name in his usual seal of lukewarm approval and it disappeared into the ether. “Please proceed directly to the lab and nowhere else.” At this, the receptionist finally looked up, locking eyes with Amir just long enough for him to see what looked like circuitry running through their lavender irises. “Just use your fingerprint for security.”

“Oh, do you need my fingerprint?”

“We have it,” they answered, with a practiced smile.

—

Amir followed the dots through the facility, which somehow managed to be both claustrophobic and expansive, like an open air maze. He was convinced he would be meandering through those passageways and elevators for the rest of his life if he lost track of the pattern of light along the floor leading him forward. He couldn’t tell if it was matching his pace or setting it. Finally, he stopped at a door with soft light around the frame glowing in approval before letting him through with the press of his thumb against a small pad on the side.

“Hi, you’re Doctor Sapp?” Amir asked in the general direction of the lab-coated figure puttering around the space, checking monitors, gathering equipment, opening what looked like a highly sophisticated code-locked cooler to pull out a bag of peanut butter cups. He paused, spinning on one heel toward the sound of Amir’s voice.

“I’m a technician,” he corrected, scanning Amir up and down, seeming to look through him. “All the PIs are, uh, indisposed elsewhere, you could say. But hopefully they’ll find their way back soon enough,” he added with that same practiced smile. “Oh you’re interesting,” he said, as if finally noticing Amir’s existence as an actual human being, looking not quite at him but at the air immediately around him.

“I’m…here for the–”

“Study! Yes, we are thrilled to have you. Please take a seat,” he gestured to a stool placed in the center of a ring of what looked like sigils imprinted in a circle on the floor, softly glowing and fading to a rhythm Amir couldn’t quite catch. From the ceiling hung a white cap covered in glowing sensors, a handful of small white circles dangling from the edges. As Technician Sapp walked him over, Amir’s eyes were drawn to his sneakers, which looked disproportionately big for an otherwise average sized man. They seemed large enough to affect his motion around the lab, his peculiar walk drawing Amir’s attention as he explained the procedure.

“There’s still so much we still don’t know about the human brain, it’s like a portal to radical new worlds.” His eyes brightened as he gave the elevator pitch to Amir, who began going in and out of focus as Sapp shifted into granular detail about the neurological ins and outs of the procedure as he finished setting up the apparatus, carefully placing the cap on his skull and sticking the little white sensors to his forehead and temples. It was more than a little out of his wheelhouse to be honest, but once the helmet was on he became fully distracted by the fireflies. Or at least that was the closest approximation. Little bursts of warm light in the space around him, progressing in lazy, chaotic spirals and loops, or flashing across his vision like shooting stars, but never venturing past the circle of sigils on the floor. He had the brief thought that maybe he should mention this.

“...there’s really incredible advancements being made in the research sector out of CSS,” continued Sapp. “Some artifact they’ve been working with that’s pushed transdimensional energetics decades ahead and if our theories are true about quantum tunneling via dream states, and the conditions are just right, we might be able to give you the right nudge–combination of nudges I guess–to activate REM.”

“Oh, like REM sleep!” exclaimed Amir, brought back to Sapp’s words by a term he thankfully recognized. “That’s good, right?”

That middle space stare again, not quite at him or through him, but analyzing something about him that Amir couldn’t quite see.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s go with that.” The technician paused in contemplation. “I know this all probably sounds very…woo woo,” he said, as if making that specific sound for the first time, his hands splayed out and rotating left and right with each respective woo, the fireflies dancing in tandem. They locked eyes in prolonged silence until Amir realized his statement was more of an open question.

“I think it’s fine, sounds cool,” Amir responded with a crooked, encouraging smile.

“Good!” the technician clapped. “Then we’re all set.”

Amir looked nervously at the clock, composed of lavender numerals on the far wall, which displayed 16:16.

“Spooling up now,” said Technician Sapp. “Just relax, you shouldn’t feel a thing. You shouldn't not feel anything either.”

The fireflies began to take on a range of multicolored pulses of light, their meandering paths turning into a counterclockwise rotation around the inside of the circle. Am I supposed to close my eyes? thought Amir. Should I have asked? But he was captivated, finding it impossible to look away as they picked up speed and intensity, blending into a vortex of light that stretched the length of his vision, tightening closer and closer until–

They were gone. Amir was sitting perfectly still in the middle of the ring of sigils, still softly glowing and fading.

“All done,” said Sapp, who had positioned himself with a wide stance at one of the monitors. “Really interesting readings on this one. That session lasted 33 minutes and 28 seconds.”

The clock displayed 16:17.

“How do you feel?” asked Sapp. “Any spacetime folds? Prophetic visions? Partial phase shifts?”

“Um, no?” said Amir, who didn’t know what any of that meant but wasn’t sure if maybe he should.

“Good!” Technician Sapp’s hands clapped in relief, as he began carefully removing the white sensors from Amir’s forehead and lifting the apparatus off his skull. “Please remember to keep a detailed journal of any dreams or dream-like phenomena and let us know about any side effects, real or imagined. Not that you should notice any serious changes whatsoever.”

“Other than my insomnia being cured, right?” asked Amir, with a hopeful smile.

Technician Sapp stared at him blankly, his head tilted at a slight angle, as if analyzing the cartography of pores on his face.

“Right,” he finally said. “Because that is what it does,” bopping his head slightly with the playful cadence, his smile ratcheting in intensity with each word, as if he plucked them at random from the ether and was pleasantly surprised to see them form a coherent thought.

Amir followed the dots of light through the facility, hoping his car was back above ground.

—

“But the clock said 16:17!”

Amir had been a little rattled by his experience as a test subject that afternoon, but had hoped it’d at least make for a cool story on his date with Dex. He managed to get through this tale of seamless walls and fireflies and weird technicians without leaning too hard into the fact that he needed the research study cash because the between in ‘I’m between jobs’ was doing a more than generous amount of work.

Dex was making a valiant effort to look some semblance of interested, hoping something else might emerge to guide the conversation. Eventually, they were chatting about more normal things, like Amir’s newfound interest in neo-futurist architecture, and Dex getting fitted soon for the premier of his musical the next weekend. It was a community theater production of an original sci-fi musical based off of an experimental Progressive House album. He was playing one of the leads, an interstellar vagabond who falls in love with a sentient stellar gas cloud under threat of being harvested to extinction by an expanding intergalactic empire.

“And the whole time I’m wearing like, tights and a glorified jock strap,” he laughed, cheeks blushing. “The stellar gas cloud couldn’t bring the sex appeal, so it had to be me.”

It was neither of their best work, as far as first dates go, but they had both experienced worse. Amir walked Dex home and they exchanged an awkward pseudo kiss-hug goodbye, which ended up with Amir planting his lips on his date’s forehead in a way that was very close to being a headbutt.

He thought it went well. After all, he dreamt about it, right?

—

The next morning, getting over the residual aftershocks of the aforementioned dream, Amir went about his day, bumbling around the kitchen until he produced a single mug of coffee, hoping the caffeine might help him make sense of the strange sequence of events since yesterday afternoon. That day in funemployment he was venturing one floor down in his apartment building to look after his neighbor Kenneth’s cat, Mr. Pibb, recovering from whatever sort of medical procedure is required to keep a nineteen year old feline on this mortal plane. Kenneth called Mr. Pibb distinguished, gently cooing to him as he reposed in his window perch, but Amir preferred ancient, imagining him reminiscing about the Great Depression as he gazed into the overcast morning.

Kenneth’s interior design was intentional, if nothing else, just like his personal aesthetic. Amir liked to think he had just stepped out of a stock photo or had been a menswear mannequin that started speaking and paying taxes. Everything about him was always coiffed, trimmed, tailored, and set just so, from the stately shoulders in his designer v-neck pullover to the cute butt in his light blue tweed slacks. Amir had for years wanted to figure out where he was always heading off to for work, but enjoyed sitting with the mystique.

“Okay so everything’s very carefully arranged in here, and the cleaners just came in yesterday, so don’t go, you know, touching things too much,” said Kenneth. He had a few inches on Amir’s 5’9” form, but had a knack for speaking down to people regardless of height. “Also, there’s a tray on the counter and a drawer in the fridge labeled with your name, those are some snacks for you. Please don’t ruffle around through everything else, I’m on a very particular diet and I’ve already begun prepping for next week.”

Amir gave a lazy salute as he leaned his butt against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee. “I will sit on this couch and stare at this cat.”

“Thank you,” said Kenneth, his face relaxing slightly. “And don’t be offended if Mr. Pibb doesn’t take to you immediately, he gets skittish around strangers.”

Skittish was the furthest thing from the ball of mangy fur sitting in the window like an avant garde art piece. Amir smiled anyway, watching Kenneth stride into the hallway and off to whatever it is he does.

Amir fell into the couch, settling into his usual activity of firing off job applications into the void, letting in just enough existential dread to keep him on his toes, and getting up periodically to make sure Mr. Pibb got his medicine or was still breathing. Maybe Dex’s coffee shop is training new baristas, he thought, picking up his phone and opening the still unanswered text thread. No, no, that’s awkward, you just want an excuse to talk to him. You want to hear from the cute boy who popped up in your dreams. Amir had a flashback to the ghostly image of Dex crammed into the booth across from him, his monstrous member about to unleash a pyroclastic flow of splooge right at his face. Chills went down his spine.

As afternoon rolled around, he tried a different tack, remembering that Dex had a costume fitting today after his shift. It’s been a busy day, of course he hasn’t texted back, he assured himself.

[Amir: You have the fitting today, right? How are you feeling about opening night?]

Sent into the ether, a bubble of text hanging below the last unanswered attempt.

This can’t be the most interesting thing I have going on, Amir thought, glancing between the dozens of tabs of job ads, the tray of high fiber, high protein snack bars on the counter, and the dozing cat in the window. It was, in fact, the most interesting thing he had going on. Accordingly, he fell asleep in the mid afternoon sun.

Kenneth. Standing in the doorway in his crisp slacks and expensive sweater, petting Mr. Pibb with one hand and gesturing purposefully with the other, the furniture in the room rearranging instantaneously with every swish of his finger, giving a continuous stream of verbal directions that sounded carefully crafted, though I couldn’t decipher what he was saying. The doorframe began to shrink around him, but no it was the same size, his body was growing, expanding to fill the space, his butt inflating cartoonishly behind him until his cheeks pressed against the frame, his hips too wide to fit through, his shoulders approaching the top corners of the doorway as his head surpassed it, cracks forming around the frame and plaster starting to rain down, continuing to gesture casually as the furniture flew and pet Mr. Pibb, who, levitating at elbow height, turned to me with a sentient look in his eyes, a very human concern creasing the edges, saying “You have to remember this. You have to–” his speech became garbled, mixing in with Kenneth’s gibberish, covered by Kenneth’s massive, growing hand–

Amir jolted awake, confused panic releasing adrenaline into his bloodstream until he remembered I’m in Kenneth’s apartment, I’m here to take care of–he turned frantically to see the cat still dozing in the window perch, not levitating and speaking with a human voice, just opening his eyes briefly to give him a look of mild annoyance.

What the fuck was that? he thought. Should I write that down? His notepad was still upstairs, maybe he could do it later, Kenneth should be home soon. He really hoped this dream journal wasn’t some sort of homework assignment. He dreaded the idea of Technician Sapp reading through multiple weird, horny nightmares in a row to try and decode whatever was happening in his brain.

His phone vibrated from where it had become nestled between the couch cushions and his butt. His heart skipped a beat to see the upside down notification from Dex as it hung loosely in his sleep-dulled hand.

[Dex: Hey, sorry, dealing with kind of a weird health issue. Didn’t make it to the fitting.]

[Amir: Oh no! Feel better?]

Why was that a question, Amir scolded himself, making a mental note of the 👍🏽 reaction that was quickly attached to his text.

“One date and he’s driven to illness. Just me and you, Mr. Pibb.”

Mr. Pibb gave a mrow of negation, his ears turning toward the front door. A few seconds later, Amir heard the sound of key entering lock and deadbolt turning, followed by Kenneth and shoulder bag peaking in.

“Amir?” ventured Kenneth as he opened the door.

“Hey, Ken,” said Amir.

“Kenneth.”

“Hey, Kenneth,” his smile matching the ease of late afternoon and a cat sitting job well done. “Mr. Pibb is definitely still alive.”

“You’re my hero,” Kenneth smirked, taking a moment to lean back against the doorframe and catch his breath. “Sorry, I took the stairs getting up here, I needed the workout.”

“Ok stairmaster. I’ve been rotting on this couch and ya look great,” Amir offered.

Kenneth rolled his eyes in reluctant thanks, dropping his bag by the entryway and wiggling his shoulders in apparent discomfort. “It’s warm, are you warm?” He adjusted his pants unconsciously as he strolled over to his cat. “Maybe I’m a little overheated, huh, Mr. Pibb?” The cat was ambivalent.

“Same time tomorrow?” he asked, before turning back to Amir. “Also, please remember, you have to–”

Amir flashed back to the image of Kenneth filling the doorway, frame cracking, plaster falling, pants and sweater ripped to tatters around him as he grew–

“Amir?”

“Kenneth,” said Amir, snapping back to reality.

“Just…remember Mr. Pibb needs his fifteen minutes of stimulation while I’m gone. He can be very energetic.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that.”

“Also, you need to check the package table more often. This has been sitting downstairs for you.” He thrust an iridescent envelope towards Amir. “It’s from Phantasy Labs.”

“Oh, you know them? Super bougie lab in that weird forest?”

“If you mean this municipality’s primary employer and the ecologically delicate nature preserve, then yes.”

“Thanks dude,” Amir gingerly lifted the envelope out of Kenneth’s hand, gathering it up with his laptop and mug as he turned to leave. “Keep hittin’ those squats, bro. See ya tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see ya,” answered Kenneth, a look of mild confusion on his face as his hands settled self-consciously on his hips.

#male tf #REM

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 year ago

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If You Lie Down With Me

"Dance me all around the room, spin me like a ballerina, super high. Dance me all around the moon, like six times 'til I'm sick and I cry..."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary - You know what kind of man he is. A liar. The sort of man that promises everything under the sun. The sort of man that promises dreamy nights and delivers lonely mornings. You only wish his lies weren't so sweet.

I've been thinking a lot about If You Lie Down With Me. It reminds me a lot of Bucky Barnes.

1940's Bucky Barnes.

A bit of a sweet talker, never too serious, always with a wry smirk and his next charming remark on the tip of his tongue.

He'd be standing in a dark, smokey room. Whiskey clinging to his breath.

Standing at the edge of the crowded party, he waited for a while to see what sort of trouble tonight would bring him.

He'd found his trouble exactly thirty minutes ago. His eyes were drawn to the door the moment you walked in.

Bingo.

Now, all he had to do was wait. His father always told him to bide his time, that good things came to those that waited.

The music roars over the sound of his stuttering heart, though no one would ever guess that with the mischievous smirk on his face paired with a wicked glint in his eye.

His eyes just keep finding you. He can't help himself.

They rake over the room over and over. It doesn't matter, nothing else catches his eye. Nothing else draws him in. Just you.

You stand as far away from him as humanly possible, chatting amongst your group of girl friends, pretending like he isn't even there. He expected no less.

It seemed like you paid him no mind, but Bucky Barnes was a perceptive man.

He noticed that flicker in your expression when you saw him and Steve standing on the outskirts of the party.

He wasn't dense either, he knew you'd spent the better part of a month avoiding him. It was dumb luck that brought you two to the same party tonight or maybe fate was on his side. He smirks at the thought, there was no fighting fate after all.

Steve lightly nudges Bucky's side after spending several minutes trying to talk to Bucky. "Buck?"

Bucky's eyes quickly shift away from his unabashed staring, "Yeah?"

"You've got the look of someone who is about to do something very stupid," Steve admonishes. Steve chastises himself, he should've known better, Bucky wasn't one to hug the wall at a party. Normally, Bucky had a girl on his arm and was trying to find a date for Steve, of course he was just looking for his opportunity to stir the pot, "Which means we should probably go."

"Go?" Bucky loudly guffaws, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of Steve's suggestion, "The party just started!"

"Please, Bucky, I don't wanna start anything tonight," Steve quietly pleads, Steve already hated parties, and he hated parties even more when Bucky was being a bit of a troublemaker.

"We came to have fun, Steve, and fun is what I intend to have. Live a little!" Bucky cajoles, nudging Steve with his elbow.

"Bucky," Steve groans, picking the skin on his fingers. "Please don't."

"I won't start anything I can't finish, Stevie. Don't you trust me?"

"Not particularly," Steve retorts.

Bucky claps a hand over Steve's frail shoulder, "Smart man, Steve. It's why we're friends."

"You're about to do something stupid, aren't you?"

"It'll either be stupid or it'll be one of the best decisions of my life," Bucky declares, smoothing his jacket before he takes off into the crowd.

"My money is on stupid," Steve declares under his breath, shoving his hands in his pocket.

Bucky holds his head up high as he cuts through the crowd. He'll make the occasional greeting when someone calls his name, always ready to show off his dazzling smile. But, otherwise, he's a man on a mission tonight.

When he makes his way to your group of friends, he notices the way you focus a little too intently on what your friend was saying. Something about a new seamstress in town. You nod, pretending like you don't see Bucky making his way toward you.

"Ladies," Bucky greets with a tip of his head, inserting himself in your circle of friends without remorse. He winks at you, ignoring the eye roll that you respond with. He reaches out to you, taking your hand, "Mind if I steal your friend for a while?"

"And if we do?" your best friend snipes.

"Then I'll promise to give her back," Bucky quips, letting the transgression roll off his back.

"Actually, we were in the middle of a conversation, Bucky. You'll have to come back later," you blithely reject him.

He pouts his bottom lip, looking to you with his best puppy dog expression, "Come on, I haven't seen you dance all night. Just one dance with an old friend?"

You look around to your friends. Half of them want you to go with him. Half of them want you to stay out of trouble, which meant staying away from Bucky Barnes. Somewhere in that half you know there's some friends that would kill if it meant Bucky would take them dancing.

You know how persistent Bucky can be. You know that he always finds a way to get what he wants. Hell, he'd probably stand with your friends and listen to all the neighborhood gossip until you gave in.

You sigh through gritted teeth, "Just one dance."

Bucky clutches his chest with a happy sigh, "You're making me the happiest man in the room tonight."

"That was rude," you chide as he guides you to the center of the room by your hand.

"I'm just a man that wants to see his best girl," Bucky remarks, stopping in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, "What's so wrong about that?"

You stand before him with a firm scowl, "I'm not your best anything, Bucky."

He playfully clutches his chest, taking your hand with the other, "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

"Don't call me that," you sharply remark, pulling your hand out of his grasp. "It gives people the wrong impression."

He takes your hand again, this time, he places it on his shoulder, "And what impression is that?"

You hold your head up high, rolling your shoulders back. You don't want to talk to him, not tonight, not any night. You resolved that you needed to stay away from Bucky Barnes. You'd held on for a month, now was no time to quit. “Enough talking, Bucky. Just do what you do best.”

He chuckles, a crooked grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He places a heavy hand on your waist, the other resting in your hand, “Yes, ma’am.”

The song is slow, intimate. It's everything you don't want to be around Bucky.

You don't want him to look at you with that damned smirk.

You don't want him to look at you like you're the first woman he's ever had eyes for.

You don't want him to look at you like he actually cares about you.

Instead, you try to focus on how much you love to dance. He was right about that. You loved the feeling of the live band playing, of the music filling a room, of someone holding you through a melody. There was nothing quite like it.

You never would have asked Bucky, though. You'd rather stand around the party bored out of your mind than to give him any room to weasel his way back into your life.

But he always was your favorite dance partner.

It's a perfect match, you and him. It always has been.

He has this air about him as he glides you around the room.

He dances you all around the room, like he wants nothing more than to show you off to each corner of the room, to show everyone how well you go together.

He makes you feel as graceful as a ballerina. He ignites something inexplicable within you, something you're sure you'll never find again. He makes you feel wanted, just for one short song, he makes you feel like you're his only desire.

He twirls you once, the soft fabric of your dress floating around you both.

Twice.

Three times.

You always land back in his arms.

Your breath hitches when you land especially close to him this time. He smiles to himself when he feels your breath skate across the top of his collar, your sweet perfume overwhelming his senses.

He grips your waist, just tight enough to make sure you’re perpetually aware of him.

"You've been avoiding me," Bucky flippantly observes, his thumb tracing patterns over the back of your hand.

"I've been busy," you retort in a clipped tone.

He humorously snorts, "Bullshit."

You pull back a little, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Bucky shoots back, never once breaking his stride, "What's kept you so busy you couldn't say hi when you saw me at the shop the other day?"

"Johnny was waiting for me," you matter of factly reply, following Bucky's every move. Where he goes, you go, "We were having dinner with my parents, if you have to know."

"Johnny," Bucky repeats, practically spitting the name. "I thought I heard somethin' about that."

You hold your head high, refusing to let Bucky feel bad for moving on with your life, "We had dinner together."

"You've never invited me to have dinner with your parents," Bucky lilts, "I'm offended."

You sharply scoff, "We both you know you were never serious about me."

"And how do you figure that?" Bucky challenges.

"You can't be serious," you deadpan.

"Cross my heart," he wryly remarks, pulling you closer to him. "I'm always very, very serious. 'Specially about you."

"I'm nothing more than a holiday to you," you murmur, clutching his shoulder as the tempo swells. "You only want me, you're only interested in me, when you need a break from your other Dolls. We have a good time, you swear it'll last forever, and you always leave."

"My other Dolls?" He scoffs. "The last time we spoke we were talking about going steady."

You slightly shake your head, rolling your eyes. Life hadn't been the same since you decided to cut Bucky out of it.

You expected that your life would be more clear, make more sense without Bucky's pretty lies being whispered in your ear. In some ways, that did happen.

You just didn't realize how much you liked the haze that formed around your thoughts when he was near. He overwhelms you, ensnaring all your senses. You don't let the haze form this time.

You have to let this childish fever dream pass, your grip tightens, "You don't mean it. You never mean it."

"I do mean it!" he quietly exclaims, a little louder than he anticipated.

"The last time we spoke, you talked a big game. And I almost believed you," you remorsefully admit, cursing yourself for even believing that it would ever work between you and Bucky. It was that day that you learned what you wanted and what could be were two very, very different things. "And the very next day you were out with Dot."

Bucky internally cringes, he remembers that day a month ago. Crazy thing was he was pretty sure he hadn't even seen Dot since then. Sure, he'd spent a date or two with a few other girls, but it was never serious to him. He shakes his head, sighing, "We just went out for a soda. She called me, what was I supposed to do?"

"That's exactly my point, Bucky. It's always gonna be somethin' with you."

"And you thought Johnny was the solution," Bucky scoffs, not bothering to tamp down his repulsion. "He's a punk kid that wouldn't know what to do with a woman like you. He-"

“He asked me to marry him,” you finish Bucky's sentence.

You've know Bucky your whole life, played together as kids, grown up in the same schools.

You know Bucky Barnes like you know yourself.

And you'd never once seen Bucky speechless, never once caught off guard, never once without a quick remark.

With this news, he is all three.

Up until this point, he had not missed a single beat, not a single misstep, or awkward lull in your dance. He stops moving in the very center of the dance floor.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure. Once he does, you're both acutely aware of the sparseness on the floor and the eyes on you.

He clears his throat, rapidly shaking his head. He looks down to you with an expectant look as he starts to lead you again, “And?”

You look up at him, your eyes boring into his, “And I’m gonna to say yes.”

He shakes his head, pulling you even closer, much too close to be considered a friendly dance anymore. Physically, you knew that if you pushed Bucky away, he'd let you go, he wasn't that type of person. You only wish you had the mental fortitude to pull away from him.

He grunts, “No, you’re not.”

You definitively nod, trying your very best to hide the heartbreak in your expression, “I am.”

"What on Earth could Johnny have that I can't give you?" he demands.

“I want children, a family-“

“Then let’s have children!”

“I want a husband," you continue, your words more pointed this time. You know that Bucky Barnes is not a man that would ever be satisfied. He'd always want more than you could ever give him. And you weren't okay with that. You felt sick at the thought of being the poor wife in the neighborhood whose husband constantly strayed. That wouldn't be you. And Bucky Barnes had proven incapable of change. "Someone who will be loyal, faithful. Someone who won’t leave.”

"If you'd give me a chance -"

You repeatedly shake your head. You know what kind of man he is. The sort of man that promises everything under the sun. The sort of man that promises dreamy nights and delivers lonely mornings.

You remind yourself to stay strong, that you deserve a chance to have a family, a stable and secure future. You know you're not asking for much. Johnny made a humble living in his father's company. He could offer you everything that Bucky could, possibly less. But at least you knew he'd be there.

You're not asking for much, no, but you're still asking for more than Bucky was willing to give you. It didn't matter what he said.

You frantically shake your head again, like that would keep his pretty lies from taking root in your head, "Not this time. Not anymore. I’m over y-“

“Don’t say that," Bucky cuts you off. He pulls you closer until your chest is flush with his, "Good girls don’t lie.”

“It was a fling, an infatuation," you shakily exhale. You look up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to release his emotional hold on you. "You’re already done with me.”

He shakes his head, looking oddly disappointed in himself for his inability to let you go, "I will never be done with you."

"Now, who's lying?"

“It’s already too late. I hope you know that.”

Desolation courses through you, followed by a soul crushing resignation. This is what you wanted. Your fever dream had to be laid to rest, “I know it is.”

“No, really, it’s too late.” He takes your arm, but only twirls you halfway this time. He stops you when your back is pressed against his chest, leaving you facing the dance floor spectators. His arm is draped over your midsection, he still doesn't stop swaying you back and forth. Your eyes scan over the party of people, all watching your interaction with Bucky. You're certain this will get back to Johnny. You're certain you'll hear people whisper about this when you walk down the street, so close to Bucky though you'd spent a month with another man. Bucky rests his chin on your shoulder, softly murmuring in your ear, “Look at all those people watching us. Wishing they were me, wishing they could hold you like I can. Wishing they were you. They know what you don't. They know that these are two people that are not over each other.”

There's nothing you can say to that. Your stomach twists into a firm knot. Resignation seeps into your bones like lead. You feel heavy and light all at once.

He turns you back. With one look, you know. You know he's not planning on letting you go. He's not planning on letting someone else take you away from him. He speaks, zeroing in on your lips, leaning so close his breath dusting across your cheeks, "They all know you're lying. They know you're the only one for me."

"What do you want from me?" you whimper, only a breath away from his lips.

"Tell him no," he instructs, his words you take as your gospel. They flood your head once again, and worse, they fill your heart with doomed hope. "Tell him you love someone else. Tell him that once you know love like that, there's no goin' back."

You can't seem to escape the hold he has on your heart, and you can't find it in yourself to fight the trance he has you in anymore. It breaks your heart. You swallow the knot in your throat, nodding, "Okay."

He twirls you once.

Twice.

Three times.

You always land back in his arms.

Tears stain your cheeks this time. He tenderly brushes them away. He wipes away all of your doubts with them.

"I'll treat you so nice, Doll. Whatever you want, I promise." He hovers so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath. You can hardly smell the lies through the sweetness of the words. "We'll dance, get married, whatever you want, I promise."

At least, if he lies down, he’ll lie next to you.

At least, if he lies, he'll lie with you.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Bucky Barnes Masterlist

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pascaloverx · 1 year ago

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Invisible Bonds: The Power of Destiny

Author's Note: This fanfic contains possible strong language and explores themes of unconventional love. The relationship between the protagonists will be handled with sensitivity, without explicit scenes.

chapter five chapter seven

Chapter Six

"Finally, the rest of the group arrived. We were starting to think you guys had lost your way to Hoseok's house." Namjoon speaks as he sets the dining table; it seems like it wasn't just you and Jungkook who brought something to eat. You smile somewhat awkwardly, still thinking about how Taehyung spoke to you and Jungkook a few minutes ago.

"Y/N was the one responsible for our delay; she insisted that we should bring something to eat and made me change my clothes as if you all deserved to see me at my best." Jungkook jokes. You remove one of the hands that were holding the pie and playfully hit his arm. The others find it amusing, and you feel a bit embarrassed.

"So, where can I leave this pie? My arm is already sore." You say, trying to shift the focus to something else.

"You came with two people, and none of them offered to help you? How ungentlemanly of both of you." Haewon says, getting up from the sofa where she was sitting. She takes the pie from your hands, gives Taehyung a kiss, and heads to the kitchen.

"So, how has it been for you two being connected to each other? Fun? Horrible? Frustrating?" Jin asks as he sits in a chair facing you and Jungkook. Taehyung takes advantage of being out of the spotlight and sits on the sofa, leaving just you and Jungkook to be interrogated.

"It's been an adventure, good and different. Like now, I know you're making her rethink if it was a good idea to come here, and I don't even need to ask her that." Jungkook replies, giving a disapproving look to Jin.

"That doesn't prove anything; I know that too, and it doesn't make me her soulmate. I mean, who would want to spend the afternoon with six idiots and Haewon?" Yoongi speaks from the dining room, and you let out a light laugh.

"Sure, I have to work while you live a romance? Nothing against you, Y/N, but that's exactly why I gave up on my soulmate." Yoongi remarks.

"Stop talking nonsense; anyone can focus on work and have a soulmate. You gave up on yours because you were afraid of how you'd feel. Meanwhile, I'm here waiting for my soulmate to come and make my days happy." Hoseok responds. Unfortunately, Yoongi gave up on his soul connection, while Hoseok has been waiting for his for years. A soulmate shaman even told our poor Hoseok that his soulmate probably gave up on the connection.

"In that, I have to agree with Hoseok. I've already found my soulmate, and I continue working." Jin adds.

"It depends on whether you can stay away from your soulmate or not, which reminds me, I have to go find mine. To the newest couple, my blessings, and to the newlyweds…" Jimin was about to continue speaking but noticed that Haewon and Taehyung hadn't gotten married.

"I'll give you a ride; I need to buy more coffee. And don't destroy my house, have fun. While I'm away, Namjoon is in charge." Hoseok says as he leaves with Jimin.

"Speaking of Namjoon, I'll help him set the table. Jungkook, can you help me take off this coat?" You ask Jungkook as you try to remove the coat on your own. He quickly comes to assist you. His cold hand touches your back, sending shivers down your spine. You murmur a "ouch" as he takes off your coat, and he notices that it's because of the coldness of his hands.

"Stop being so sensitive; I barely touched you, love." Jungkook says, taking your coat off completely and placing it on the coat rack. Before you head to the dining room, Jungkook gives you a kiss on the cheek. You then head to the dining room. Helping Namjoon will clear your mind, not to mention that you feel the need to talk to someone with experience about soulmates.

"I feel like you didn't come to help me for nothing, so go ahead and open up." Namjoon says as soon as you enter the dining room. You're surprised, but you remember that he often knows things you didn't even think to question.

"When did you discover your soulmate, and how long did it take for you to know you felt something genuine for them?" You ask, curious and a bit apprehensive. Namjoon stops what he's doing and looks at you.

"Y/N, uncertainty about your feelings and their enormity will be with you all the time. Whether it's real or not doesn't really matter. Are you happy?" Namjoon asks. Before answering, you look at Jungkook, who is in the living room talking to Yoongi. He smiles so genuinely that you feel like your heart is going to burst.

"Possibly, I feel light. As if I could share my life with someone. Sharing my life with someone, especially someone like Jungkook, feels like a weight lifted off my shoulders. Despite the uncertainties, there's a warmth in my heart that makes every moment worthwhile." You speak so unexpectedly that even you surprise yourself. Perhaps you're letting your heart do more of the talking.

"So allow yourself to feel that, without overthinking if it's the connection or just you. In life, moments where we feel complete are rare. If you feel that way, savor this moment." Namjoon says, embracing you as if he wants to comfort you.

"Even if it means letting go of something that is very dear to me?" You ask genuinely, knowing that embracing your feelings for Jungkook means leaving behind your romantic feelings for Taehyung.

"I think you know the answer to that question, but I can tell you that sometimes life closes one door so that a better one can open. I trust that you will make the right choice." Namjoon says, gently patting your head, and you feel like he kind of understands what you're talking about. You and Namjoon then call everyone to eat, and you think that maybe Namjoon is right. Life is closing one opportunity to open up a better opportunity for my future happiness.

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monaisme · 3 months ago

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Sicktember: Day 11

#11- Medieval Treatment

“Hey, Peter,” Ned called out into the boy’s locker room, “Are you still in here?”

Peter groaned from the stall he was currently sitting in. “Yeah,” he called out. “Can you tell everyone I’m sorry and to start without me?” Peter shifted in discomfort. “I’m definitely gonna be a bit longer.”

“Aw, man. That sucks.”

“I know.” Peter whined. “I don’t get it, Ned! Since the... you know...” Peter’s voice dropped low for that part, “My stomach is just—” Peter tried to find the right word but, as though being summoned by its mere mentioning, Peter’s stomach gurgled. “fucked.” His face flushed red, not that anyone could see it. “Just go, Ned. You don’t want to be in here for this. I’ll come out when I can.”

Peter heard a couple of shuffled steps come closer, and then, “Have you thought about talking to Mr. Stark about this?”

Peter’s face flushed even more. “Yeah, that’s a hard pass. Gosh. He hardly talks to me now?! Can you imagine that call? Hi, Mr. Stark, it’s Peter Parker. So my tummy is rumbly and— oh gaw—” Cramps flashed like lightening across Peter’s abdomen. “Please go, Ned. We’ll talk later!”

“Got it,” Ned replied and hurried away, wishing he could figure out how to help his best friend, but at a complete loss.

The worry must have still shown on Ned’s face as he re-entered the gymnasium because before he could even make his way across the gymnasium, Abe had looked over to him and piped up, “Uh, oh. Something’s wrong.”

Mr. Harrington shushed everyone’s whispering with a look, but their attention still shifted as Ned walked over to the group. Ned kept his focus on Mr. Harrington. “Uh, Peter’s sorry, sir, but he’ll be a little late. He says he doesn’t think we should wait for him and to just get started.”

Mr. Harrington had picked up on the concern. “Oh, dear, should I go check on him?” he asked quietly.

But Ned knew better. “I think he just needs some time to work things out?” he replied awkwardly. How would one convey that his best friend’s digestive system was rebelling in the most horrible way imaginable for no reason that Ned could share? “He, uh, probably wants to be alone for it, you know?”

Mr. Harrington looked sympathetic. “Okay, then. I can respect that.” The teacher then turned away from Ned, and clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Alrighty, Aca Deca! Let’s turn our brains on to maximum output and get this practice started. Captain, the floor is yours.”

And just like that, everyone moved on.

It took longer than he’d hoped, but Peter joined everyone about twenty minutes into the hour long practice, looking pale and shaky enough that even Flash bit his tongue and left well enough alone.

Mr. Harrington cast a questioning glance at him, but Peter gave him a quick nod of assurance and practice was back on track.

Ned, however, needed to hear the words for himself, “Are you going to be okay, Peter?” Ned leaned over to whisper once Peter had sat himself tentatively in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Peter answered back softly. “I’m just gonna get through this and then head home and lie down for a bit.” He huffed a little laugh. “There are some soda crackers in the cupboard I’m praying my stomach won’t totally hate me for.”

Ned cringed, nodded, and gave Peter an awkward shoulder pat in support. What else could he do?

MJ cleared her throat and glared at the pair.

Peter must have looked really bad if MJ was letting their chatter slide with nothing more than that.

Crap.

It was all they could do to turn their focus fully to MJ and the remainder of the rapid fire Q & A that she’d prepped for their practice. It wouldn’t have done Peter or Ned any good to have MJ murder them for not focussing when those crackers were suddenly sounding so good.

Finally the last buzzer had been buzzed and the lot of them had proven their worth to MJ once more. To say that Peter was relieved that he’d redeemed himself with his responses was an understatement, especially after the debacle in D.C. Peter was determined to prove his worth—if only his stupid stomach would cooperate.

“Come on, buddy. I’ll walk you home, okay?” Ned patted gently him on the back and picked up both of their backpacks. Peter nodded and started the shuffle toward the gymnasium doors.

“Hey, guys, wait up a sec!” Betty Brandt had been speaking to Charles across the gym, it seemed, but called out to them as she bolted toward them before they could exit. “Peter! I wanted to talk to you!”

Both of the boys glanced at each other questioningly and stopped in their tracks.

“Oh! Good! Thanks!” Betty smiled brightly. “I’m not going to take long, I know you’re not feeling great. I just—” Betty, it seemed, had just realized what she had planned to say, “Oh, gosh. It’s just that we- I mean, I’ve noticed that you’re having some ‘stomach issues,’” Betty blurted, “and my uncle is a chiropractor, so...”

Peter was tired enough from all of the discomfort and overall grossness of what his life had become that he almost wasn’t bothered by her slip of the tongue and the newfound awareness that everyone was talking about this... subject... almost. Peter blushed, but needed to cut her off. “Uh. No offense, Betty, but what does my back have to do with my...” He couldn’t help but be suspicious.

“Well, my uncle took a couple of extra courses about nutrition and such and he swears that if you drink apple cider vinegar every day, it will help to regulate your digestive system. Like, in your stomach and intestines and all that. He explained it to me, and I was looking over my biology notes last night and, well, the science works in theory so I thought that maybe it was worth mentioning? Or you could maybe do some reading, too, I guess? Check it out?”

“Uh, thanks,” Peter smiled weakly. “We’ll definitely do that.” Peter looked at Ned then back to Betty. “So, uh, I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Betty grinned big, obviously pleased with herself for performing her good deed for the day. “Awesome! See you tomorrow!” She nodded at Peter in farewell, then grinned even bigger for Ned, “I’ll see you, too, right?”

Ned shrugged, “Yeah, sure,” then hooked his arm through Peter’s and ushered them both away.

“That was weird, wasn’t it?” Ned whispered when he knew they were far enough away that Betty wouldn’t hear them. “I’m feeling like I’m missing something... it wasn’t just me, right?”

Peter chuckled. “Oh, that was weird, all right, but I wanna know if she was right about the—” Peter’s forehead scrunched as he tried to remember what exactly Betty had suggested. Focussing for MJ decathlon was one thing, but Betty had been a bit of an unexpected blur after the stomach talk. “I know she mentioned apples and vinegar?”

“That’s about all I got out of it, too,” Ned pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up a search engine as they walked, “Huh? Cool beans! Apparently vinegar was used to treat the black plague during medieval times. It had to do with balancing the humours and all that sort of stuff.” Ned hefted the two backpacks he still carried a little higher then started scrolling down the page. “I need to look into becoming a chiropractor! This is straight out of D&D, Pete!”

Peter’s stomach did a warning lurch. “That doesn’t sound too promising.”

“I hear you, man, but Betty did say she checked it out and she is the go-to for bio notes. You know that computers are my thing. Anything else is gobbledygook until I have to study for a quiz... and then I go to Betty!” Ned thrust his phone in front of Peter, “But here. You can read the article while we walk and you can tell me what you want to do.”

Peter pushed Ned’s phone back towards him. “I just want to go home, crawl in a corner, and die.” Peter replied. His stomach swooped and he looked to see how close he was to home. “You know what, Ned?” Peter suddenly didn’t have time to waste. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, yanked out three one dollar bills, and passed them over to Ned. “That’s all the cash I’ve got. Gimme the backpacks. I’m gonna head back to my place before I become the stereotypical New Yorker. Please, Ned, just... I can’t take this anymore. Go find somewhere that sells vinegar. If it’s more than three dollars, I’ll pay you back when I get my next allowance.” Peter was on borrowed time. He took both of the backpacks and started walking faster. He couldn’t wait for an answer. The discussion was over. “Don’t forget about the apples! Thanks, man. I owe you!” And Peter was off.

/-/-/

It was only thirty minutes later that Ned arrived at the door to the Parker apartment carrying his bounty and executed his special knock.

“Hey, Ned. It’s open.”

Ned frowned as he came in. “Dude? Come on! I get that you’re Spider-Man, but this is still the city,” he chastised his friend as he walked past the couch, into the kitchen, and pulled open the cabinet door hiding the glasses. “What if I’d walked in and decided to murder you dead—” Ned grabbed a glass and turned, intending to head to the dining room table, but caught sight of his friend. “Peter?”

“Hey,” Peter dragged himself up off the couch he’d been lying on. “You were way faster than I thought you’d be.”

Ned couldn’t take his eyes off of Peter, who had shucked his bulky sweatshirt, long sleeved tee, and jeans in exchange for a plain black tee and sweats. How had Ned not noticed that he’d started to lose weight? “Dude?” Ned was more than worried now. “Are you sure we shouldn’t call Mr. Stark? I’m starting to feel like—”

Peter frowned. “I already told you, he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

“But—”

“No!”

“But, Peter! Something’s wrong!”

“Yah! And we’re trying to fix it! So did you find the vinegar or not?”

Ned nodded. “Uh huh.” He lifted up his arm to show the plastic bag hanging off his wrist. “Mr. Delmar had some hiding on a shelf somewhere in the stockroom. When I told him it was for you, he went and dug it out.”

Peter’s dulled eyes brightened. “Awesome! And the apples?”

“One apple, and it is also in the bag,” Ned walked the last steps to their dinner table and placed the bag and Peter’s three dollars in front of him. “AND it was all free of charge, so you know. Mr. Delmar said the vinegar is about to hit its best before and he wasn’t gonna be able to sell it anyways, and he says you need to eat more fruit and vegetables so the apple’s on him.”

Peter smiled wider. “He’s so amazing. I’ll be sure to say thanks the next time I go get a sandwich.”

Ned didn’t say anything else as he pulled the dusty bottle of vinegar and the apple out of the bag, but there was no hiding the fact that he was second guessing this. “Maybe I should read another article before we get started?”

Peter frowned at the hesitation, “C’mon, Ned. How bad can it be? It’s vinegar. It’s in practically everything we eat... and I’m guessing the apple is to, like, get the taste out of your mouth?”

Ned shrugged. “Makes sense, but...” he moved to pull his phone out of his pocket.

Peter crossed his arms, getting frustrated. “Stop it, Ned. This’ll be fine.”

Ned crossed his arms, getting frustrated, too. “This could also be so bad, though.”

Peter tried to crook an eyebrow. (He was still working on perfecting that particular skill.) “How’s about this—” Peter pulled his phone out of his back pocket and placed it on the table next to their supplies. “As a precaution, if something goes wrong, you have official permission to try calling Mr. Stark. I am telling you that nothing will go wrong—but if it does... it’s not like he answers now, so.” Peter shrugged.

Ned did manage to crook his own eyebrow. (As the Guy-in-the-Chair, he had more downtime to work on it.) “I hear you... and if he doesn’t answer, I’ll call Aunt May’s cell and pray for mercy. What is Mr. Stark listed as in your phone... just so I’m ready.”

“Currently?” Peter attempted another eyebrow crook, paused for effect, and answered, “Dr. Dolittle.”

Ned exhaled slow and loud. “That’s deep, dude.”

“I know,” Peter looked impressed with himself. “But we can talk about that later. I’m ready to get on the path to—what did you say it was? Balancing my humours?” Peter grabbed the bottle of vinegar and twisted the cap open. “Phew,” Peter’s eyes watered as the vapours escaped into the air. “Maybe we’re supposed to mix it with the apple instead?” He wondered aloud, then poured a small measure into the glass. “I think Aunt May picked up some juice boxes?”

Ned walked back over to the kitchen, already knowing exactly where they would be if there was, indeed, apple juice. “Aha!” He shouted out in victory. “One brand spanky new pack of ten apple juice boxes. Dude, your aunt is a goddess!” Ned pulled out a single juice box, set the remainder on the counter, and returned, triumphant.

“I know,” Peter smiled, “now hand that over.” He made grabby hands, “I’m so over this.”

“I’ve got you, Pete,” Ned removed the straw from its plastic and poked the box open. “Do you think a one-to-one ratio would be best?” Ned asked as he squeezed the juice through the tiny hole and added it to the vinegar.

“Did it say anything about it on your phone?”

Ned shook his head, ‘no.’ “Not that I saw?”

“Well then, let’s start with that and see what happens.”

“If you’re sure...?” Ned was looking hesitant.

“Sure that I’m ready for this to be over? Absolutely.” Peter picked up the glass and gave it a swirl. “Think I can do this all in one go?”

Ned cringed at the thought of actually consuming the concoction, “For the sake of your taste buds, I sure hope so.”

“Me, too.” Peter took a couple of deep breaths, mentally preparing himself before one last thought came to him, “Oh! If I die, you can have my Funko Pop collection, okay?”

“PETER!” Ned hollered at him, “Don’t even joke about that!”

Peter snorted laughed, “Okay, I’ll haunt you and Betty instead.” With a final nod, Peter exhaled, raised his glass to Ned, smiled, and downed the glass in one great gulp...

And then everything went to hell.

/-/-/

Peter came back to himself all at once.

And by all at once, he meant it was with an attempt at a deeper than normal breath once he’d apparently been taken off the ventilator. Instead of relief, he struggled to breathe through a coughing fit for the ages, while wondering how he’d been made to swallow glass while simultaneously drinking gasoline and then setting his stomach on fire.

“ugh.” Peter rasped, then curled into a ball—well, he tried to. The tugs of the IV line and various monitors stopped him in his tracks, and that was when he remembered his everything in a flash of jumbled memories, “Oh.”

Even the click of the leather heel of Mr. Stark’s shoes sounded fancier in what Peter could guess what the medical floor of... somewhere? “Oh?” Mr. Stark came up to Peter’s bedside. “That’s all you’ve got to say for yourself?”

“Uh. I guess vinegar’s bad?” Crap, did his throat hurt.

Mr. Stark laughed, “Yeah, you can say that again.”

Peter rubbed at his throat and shook his head, “Nope.”

The brief look of amusement on Mr. Stark’s face shifted into one of regret, “Kid...” Mr. Stark shifted from one foot to another as he tried to come up with something to say, then finally spoke again, “I think I owe you an apology.”

Peter blinked in confusion. “Wha—?”

“No! Please. Stop talking before Dr. Cho kills me for messing up what’s healed so far. Just...” Mr. Stark sighed. “Please know that realize now that I should have been around more to help you out with... things. And I especially should have made myself available for you when you starting having issues with your mutation. I’m so sorry.”

Peter frowned and opened up his mouth to speak again when Mr. Stark stopped him. “Wait, really! Let me get something for you to...” he glanced around the room, but found nothing, so he pulled his own phone out of his pocket and opened up a blank screen. “Just, no talking. Type... please?”

Peter typed, fumbled a bit in his exhaustion, backspaced, then typed some more before eventually handing the phone back to the man. “Does have something to do with the whole spider thing? Am I dying?”

Mr. Stark almost choked as he read Peter’s words aloud, “No. Why would you think you were dying?!”

Peter put his hand out for the phone. He typed back, “You’re THE Tony Stark—and apologizing?!”

Mr. Stark’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well, yeah. When my asshole ways almost get you killed because I can’t be bothered to answer your calls... I can admit that I screwed up. AND,” Mr. Stark kept going, “I’m going to do better. While Pepper won’t let me buy back the tower, I am going to set up a base camp of sorts, somewhere closer to home so when things go to shit, we don’t need to fly you outside of the city via the Iron Man express to get help for emergencies.”

“WHAT?!” Peter couldn’t help his reaction, but wished he had as the pain flared enough that his eyes watered.

“Whoa, kid, relax... deep breaths! You’re okay... just breathe.” Mr. Stark instructed as Peter tried to get the pain under control. “That’s it.” He’d obviously had little experience in comforting, but he was trying, even as he rubbed Peter’s back.

“Peter?” A younger voice called out from somewhere behind him. “Mr. Stark? Is he awake?” Ned popped up beside Mr. Stark. “Oh, thank god! I thought we’d killed you! Did Mr. Stark tell you about it all yet? It was like out of a horror movie, man, blood spewing everywhere! And vinegar! Did you know that vinegar kills spiders? And peppermint? And cinnamon? And lemon! Dude! Everything you were eating was making you sick! Did Mr. Stark tell you about that? Man, oh, man! Good luck finding something to eat at the cafeteria now...” Ned finally trailed off once he noticed both Peter and Mr. Stark staring at him in awe.

“Did you even take a breath there?” Mr. Stark had to ask.

Ned just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a gift.”

“Well, I was just about to tell Peter,” Mr. Stark brought his attention back to the boy in the bed. “That we’re going to do some testing before we send you home so you and your aunt can keep you safe. Okay? If that means that I have to hire you a private chef to make you specialized meals, then so be it, but for now, we’re gonna keep things super simple and wait on your gut to heal a little more before we go too crazy.”

Peter nodded, then picked up the sound of a woman’s footsteps coming down the hall.

Oh, no.

Peter’s brain flew into survival mode. He frantically tapped something out on the phone. “ned howdid you ge there”

“Oh, yeah.” Ned was pickin’ up what Peter was layin’ down. “Mr. Stark grabbed you, and then Aunt May and I came together in her car and, uh...”

Peter knew he shouldn’t have put it off, but he hadn’t wanted to worry her with anything else and he had it all under control until they’d decided to...

Even Ned looked nervous, and he’s had a head start! “Yeah. Sorry, Peter. She knows about everything... and she’s pissed.”

#Sicktember 2024 #Day Eleven: Medieval Treatment #Day 11 #MCU #hurt/comfort #teenagers are idiots #tw: vomiting #only mentioned #Irondad and Spiderson #OBlossom #ao3 fanfic

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icanbeyourgenie · 1 year ago

Note

[ Achilles singing a moving ballad about a forgotten love ]

From the moment Achilles walked into the room, Nathaniel had not been able to focus on anything else. But when he started singing the song... It was something else entirely.

Nate was vaguely aware that he was in the middle of a conversation with Calypso, and that his sister was still talking to him, but he was unable to shift back his focus on her. He had never been good at controlling where his attention was headed, but for once he didn't care.

His mind was racing - and going nowhere - with thoughts on how to proceed. This time, he knew what was happening. Achilles didn't remember him. Not yet. It was a good thing, because it meant they had time. But it was also a bad thing because it meant the love of his life had no idea who he was. And an even more terrible thing because Nate had to make a good first impression - and judging by the previous times, it was not his forte.

The siren was still debating his strategy when he noticed something that immediately put him in movement: the minute Achilles stopped singing, Aeron went to him. And even from across the room, Nathaniel could clearly see him flirting.

He should probably take some time to breathe and to think. He did not. Instead, he raced to them.

"Prince Aeron, I'm sorry to interrupt this conversation" (he was not) "but my sister is requesting your presence."

Nathaniel was fully aware that Calypso had no desire to talk to Aeron more than necessary, and that he brutally cut her mid-sentence to come deal with the situation, but he could deal with an angry Calypso. What he couldn't deal with, however, was Aeron flirting with his man.

The same Aeron who, at the present moment, looked at him like he grew another head.

"I doubt that very much."

"And yet it is the truth." Nathaniel turned his head to look at Achilles. He tried not to let his heart rhythm quickens too much, and he failed. "Good evening. Your song was mesmerizing. Did you write it yourself?"

"I did, actually. It came to me in a dream."

Nathaniel smiled at that. "What a beautiful dream it must have been-"

"Yes, actually..." Aeron cut, and just from the look on his face, Nate understood that he revealed too much of his game, and that Aeron would be more than happy to tease him a little bit. "I invited our new bard to sing more of his mesmerizing songs in the afterwards party I'll be organizing in my private chambers. I would invite you, but I know how you princes of the Sea feel about such parties. Such a shame you'll miss out."

"Oh, are you a prince too?" Achilles asked. "I'm sorry for not greeting you properly, your Highness."

Nate would have found it cute if he didn't see red. Aeron 'innocently' put his arm around Achilles' shoulders and Nathaniel felt a violent urge to detach this arm from Aeron's body.

"I don't find this appropriate considering your engagements towards my sister. You know, your wife."

"Well, what a curious thing for you to say. It's the first time I see you advocate that I should spend more time with her. What seem to be the problem?"

"Maybe I'm just not in a mood to let you disrespect her again tonight."

Nate's anger was fueled by Aeron's nonchalance. The bastard even had the audacity to smile, like he was enjoying himself - which he probably was.

"Now, now. No need to be this hostile. We're all allies here, remember?" He smirked as he got a bit closer to Achilles, making Nate's blood boil. "If you're feeling left out, I'm sure my brother will be more than happy to welcome you in his chamber again. You want me to get him for you?"

Nathaniel couldn't tell what it was exactly that made the urge to wipe Aeron's smile. from his face so strong, but the next thing he knew, he was pushing the fae prince in the extravagant cake the High Queen ordered for the night.

The brutal silence that followed is what brought him back to reality. Silence only broken by Aeron's laugh (that little shit). But a silence that reminded him that he was still in enemy territory, and that he just disrespected the favorite son of the High Queen.

He was in for a big serment from Malachai. His brother was already walking in his direction. Which is why he quickly turned to Achilles, who seemed to have no idea how to react.

"How rude of me, I didn't even properly introduce myself. Hi, I'm Nathaniel. Please stay in the castle. I promise I'm not crazy, and I'd love to discuss about your songs."

As he was dragged away by Malachai, watching the guards try to control the chaotic mess he created and looked at Calypso's shocked expression, he realized one thing: After all these times, after all his meetings with Achilles, he was still terrible at first impressions...

#i love the idea that all achilles/nate meetings have been chaotic #bc nate doesn't know how to react to seeing the love of his life who doesn't remember him #so yeah there was many tries #and it's always this bad #but funny af #also aeron is a bastard (affectionate)#so ofc he'd mess with nate #i love to think that it's a little bit cause he has xanthe's interests at heart #but who am i kidding?#it's just cause he loves the drama lmao #and messing with people #writing prompt #nathaniel writing prompt #nathaniel x achilles #nathaniel blackwater #likeafairytale

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fluttering-lillies · 1 year ago

Text

Afterparty Chapter 1: Rainbow

Words: 3,696 Pairing: SunDash Rating: T Warnings: Talk of excessive drinking, mentions of sex

-- Rainbow Dash could only feel her head throbbing. Slowly the rest of her sluggish, heavy body filtered into consciousness. Her legs and feet came into focus next. They ached too and she vaguely remembered her moves on Pinkie's living room turned dance floor. Heh. She'd torn it up, even drunk. It seemed she was finally paying for all that awesomeness now. She gripped her pounding head and managed to croak out a single, groaning syllable. “Ughhh…”

After a solid half minute, Rainbow pulled her hands from her head. Something briefly kept her hand and hair together, something sticky, then it broke apart. Rainbow examined the substance on the tips of her fingers. She guessed it was alcohol or maybe soda. A little bit gross but not alarming. She’d just wash up in the bathroom. When she actually managed to get up.

Rainbow Dash didn’t rush for once, she simply lay there and let her mind slowly sort through the sensations the rest of her body was sending. Her limbs and chest brushed freely against the sheets and blankets atop her. She registered for the briefest moments that she was naked, then forgot about it. She usually slept naked. Though if more than just her friends were in the house, she'd probably need to get dressed before leaving… whatever room this was. Getting up was first priority though.

She’d only squinted through her blurry eyes thus far and when she tried to open them more, a hissing came unbidden from the back of her throat. Her hand shot up, blocking out the small knives of light stabbing through the blinds. She didn't really get much of an idea of what was around her as she covered her eyes with one hand and held her head with the other.

"Fuck." She said softly as the pounding in her head eased just the slightest bit. Still, that barely helped and her entire body worked together, rebelling and making it clear she should never do whatever she did last night again. Well, she could remember the drinking, but not much else. "I think this might be my worst hangover like... ever."

She started to reach forward, feel her way out of the bed and onto her feet. She hurt like hell, but knew that the best way to deal with this was water and maybe some food if she could keep that down. Plus, clothes. She needed clothes. She had to keep some decency at least.

As she started shifting off the bed, she heard something to her right. A rustling, then a groan. Feminine but low. Then a swear. From a voice she recognized.

Her first thought was that she'd hooked up last night. Which. Nice. Her second sluggish thought as she started turning around to look at the other girl in the bed was 'Oh. Shit. I hooked up with one of my friends.'

She recognized the red hair and blonde streaks immediately, and when Sunset Shimmer poked her head up from under the covers, Rainbow Dash's eyes got wide and her slow, lazy pulse caught up to her rapidly spinning brain.

Sunset seemed to go through a similar process as her, opening her eyes, covering her eyes, swearing, but her hangover wake up process was interrupted by Dash's voice. "Yo."

Sunset didn't startle. She was much too out of it for that. She simply turned, propping herself up slowly with an elbow. The blanket slipped down her shoulder, exposing one of her breasts. Dash tried not to think about that, or look. Sunset's confused, then concerned expression gave her plenty to stare at. "Dash?" She said. Then. "Dash." Then. "Oh. Sh-shit. Dash."

Sunset's eyes were wide, then squinting as more light pierced them. "Did... did we?" She said as she brought a hand up to her eyes again.

Dash sat up completely. Her head and stomach protested in equal measure. "I... I don't know," she said. Which was technically true. She remembered dancing with Sunset. Grinding against her maybe? Not much else. She remembered the stickiness on her hand. Whatever the fluid was, it was clear. Her eyes wandered over to Sunset, then down to her crotch, covered by blankets. "I mean-"

The door burst open with a loud sing song, "Helllooooo~"

Sunset and Dash both cringed and covered their ears. Pinkie was at the door, mixing a bowl of something in her hands. "If you aren’t—“ She stopped, looking between Dash and Sunset.

"Oh! There you are! I was wondering where you two ended up after you started making out on the couch last night." Pinkie started stirring the bowl in her arms again. "We have water, coffee, and milk downstairs, and pancakes should be ready soon. Take your time though. I know you both went pretty hard last night." She grabbed the door and started to close it, then popped her head back in.

"Oh! And wash the sheets please! Thaaaat is my parents bed. And like. I get that sometimes you just gotta fuck, but you both were pretty loud so I'm kinda just assuming you made a mess. And uh... don't exactly wanna explain sticky sheets to my parents, y'know?" Pinkie made a face, nose and eyes scrunching closer together. Then she finally stepped out, door closing behind her.

The confirmation didn't jog Rainbow Dash's memory much. She did remember something warm against her mouth, a tongue against her own, but that was it.

Sunset didn't seem much clearer on things either, looking between Dash and the door, baffled and speechless. Their eyes met when Sunset looked her way again, and as soon as they did Dash’s gaze flashed back to the floor. The world spun a little bit as she did, and as nausea rose she could feel heat doing the same, pooling in her cheeks. Questions about where this left her relationship with Sunset started bubbling to the forefront.

They didn't get far though. The wall of pain in her head stopped them with a chaotic, skittering crash. She put a hand to her head, another to her eyes. She was too hungover for this shit.

"Look," Rainbow said to the floor instead of Sunset, but who else could it be for? "Can we talk about… whatever the fuck that was later. I need- I need water. And food. And Tylenol."

"Sounds good." Sunset replied, her voice hoarse and low.

Dash didn't need any more response than that. She stood. Something stabbed into her skull, then flipped her stomach. Her head swam and she almost sat right back down.

Instead she swayed there for a bit, until her whole form steadied enough to support itself. She bent down and grabbed her clothes, skipping the bra. When dressed she headed for the door. Each step wasn't particularly fun, but she managed to drag herself there. She smelled cooking pancakes as she stepped into the hallway. That and... was that bacon? Her mouth watered, and her rumbling stomach carried her the rest of the way. Down the stairs and into a seat at Pinkie Pie's family dining room table.

Applejack was already there, coffee in hand and head down, hat over her eyes. She looked at Dash for a second, but didn't say anything, only waved weakly in greeting. When Sunset came down the stairs a minute or so later, Applejack looked up again, and this time her eyes darted from Sunset, to Rainbow, and back. Still, she said nothing, and only waved to Sunset as well.

They heard Pinkie in the kitchen say something. Someone responded but Rainbow didn't catch their voice. She only knew someone else spoke because Pinkie responded a moment later.

After that there were some steps, a twisted door handle, and Fluttershy walked into the room, looking tired, but not in horrible aching pain. "Hi girls..." She said softly, which to Dash was a feat all its own. Her head hurt too much to say anything right now.

True to that fact, no one at the table responded to the greeting with words, just waves and in Sunset's case, a slight groan. Fluttershy didn't seem to mind. She just sat down and waited like the rest of them.

Pinkie came in next, two plates piled high with food in her hands. One was stacked with fluffy warm pancakes and the other was a pile of crispy, still sizzling bacon. The table was already set, including syrup and butter, so Dash started reaching for food, not really thinking about manners until Fluttershy thanked Pinkie and the other two girls followed her example.

In lieu of a thank you, Rainbow Dash spoke as she shoved a piece of bacon into her mouth. "Pinkie Pie. You're a goddess."

That seemed to be an appropriate substitute because Pinkie smiled and held up a hand in front of her like it was a notebook. "Something to drink, ladies?"

"Coffee." Sunset said.

"Just water." Fluttershy said as she spread butter on a pancake.

"Water." Dash said. Then she swallowed her bacon and added. "And Tylenol." Then after she grabbed more bacon, but before she could shove it in her mouth. "Please."

Sunset and AJ seconded that request and Pinkie made another note directly into her pink hand. "Alright. Comin' right up!" Her voice was too loud for Dash's headache, but she'd cooked them breakfast and delivered it to them, so Dash wasn't about to complain.

"Oh!" Pinkie snapped back around right before she walked through the kitchen doorway again. "Shy and Sunny I've got veggie sausage patties too. Those will be out soon."

Fluttershy and Sunset thanked her, and she really went to go get drinks this time.

There was only chewing for a while, but halfway through her pancake, Fluttershy asked to the table. "Where are Rarity and Twilight?”

"Rares is in the bathroom. Has been since she woke up twenty or so minutes ago. She came out here, saw me, and immediately walked down the hall and locked herself in there. She did look a right mess, but I don't know why she thinks me or Pinkie would care. Twilight, I don't know." Applejack said it all to her plate, but with food in their stomachs they could probably manage small talk if not eye contact.

Fluttershy looked over at Sunset, then Rainbow. "Have either of you seen her?"

They both responded negative and Dash watched as Fluttershy frowned.

"She's a big girl, Shy. If this were her first Pinkie party I'd be more concerned, but she's been hanging with us for almost a year now and she's like you, not that big into alcohol." Dash assured her.

Fluttershy nodded, but still looked mildly concerned.

They went back to silent eating for a couple minutes, until Rarity and Pinkie stepped into the room at the same time. Pinkie was carrying several glasses of ice water, a bottle of Tylenol, and a mug of what was presumably coffee. Rarity's hair was a little frizzy, but other than that she looked completely put together, eyeliner winged, blemishes concealed, even a light coating of lip gloss. She betrayed herself when she opened her mouth though. For one her voice cracked weirdly, for two she said, "Oh thank fuck. Painkillers. Hand them here darling." She reached out a hand. There were mild grumbles from the table, and Rarity raised an eyebrow as she picked out a water glass at random, grabbed two pills, and gulped them down.

"We asked for em first, sugarcube." AJ mumbled as Pinkie passed out the rest of the drinks.

Dash took hers gratefully, washing down pancake with several greedy gulps. She left just enough to still take the Tylenol. Rarity sat down as Dash drank, handing over the pills to AJ with an apologetic smile. "Oops."

Applejack, for her credit, didn't say anything else. She just took two pills and passed them to Fluttershy, who took one and passed them to Dash, who took two and passed them to Sunset. Once the bottle had been passed around completely Pinkie looked to Rarity. "Coffee?"

"Pinkie Pie. My savior. My triumph. My goddess. Please."

Pinkie giggled and bustled off again. Rarity's grateful smile turned into a slightly puzzled frown as Pinkie disappeared. "How. Is she so chipper? She was drinking just as much as I was last night."

Dash shrugged. To her there was no explaining the mystery that was Pinkie Pie.

"She drank more water than you too." Fluttershy supplied.

"Still." Rarity narrowed her eyes. Then shrugged and seemed to let it go, grabbing for food.

"Um..." Fluttershy looked at Rarity as she pulled several pieces of bacon and two pancakes onto her plate. "Have you seen Twilight?"

"On Maud's bed. Likely still asleep. Or she was when I woke up at least. Not sure how she managed to stay asleep through Pinkie Pie's wake up call, but she looked peaceful and she is still breathing, so..."

They all looked at Rarity, and Applejack was the first one to speak. "Did you..."

"What?"

"Y'know..." Applejack waved her hands vaguely, but apparently that and her embarrassed tone was enough.

Rarity gaped at her and stopped dripping syrup on her food. "Applejack!" She said, incredulous. The word was almost a surprised, offended scoff.

"Well. You weren't very specific. I think it was a legit question." Rainbow Dash offered from her side of the table.She kept her eyes squarely on Rarity, then slid them down to her food as soon as she was done speaking. Looking, talking at Rarity was safe. Sunset had happened to sit furthest from her after all.

Rarity turned on her, indignation still clear on her face. "We slept in the same bed. Because that was the easiest way to do things. Thank you very much." Her face calmed and she turned back to her food. Then, she smirked and kept going.

"Just because you had your tongue down Sunset's throat halfway through the party doesn't mean we all suddenly went feral and jumped our friends."

Sunset spluttered on her coffee, spitting it back out into the mug and coughing. Applejack patted her back roughly as she coughed and a moment later she was back to deep, steadying breaths.

Rainbow half choked too, gripping the table and swallowing once, twice, thrice to get a bite of bacon she hadn’t chewed properly down her throat.

"What?" Rarity asked as she picked up a fork and knife and started cutting into her food. "You weren't complaining, darlings. Oh you definitely weren't complaining."

Fluttershy's face was bright red, Applejack was hiding behind her hat again, really only Rarity seemed nonplussed about the whole thing. She just sat there, calmly eating. As she chewed, her expression changed from satisfied to curious and her eyes went from Rainbow Dash to Sunset, then back again. Rainbow sat stock still, and she felt very much like the deer she’d almost hit with her van last year. Rarity swallowed, and a sly, dangerous smile spread across her face.

"Now, hold on. I lost track of you two after a while. I thought I heard something upstairs but..." When everyone at the table shifted uncomfortably. Her smile turned delighted. "Well then. My my you two."

"Can we talk about literally anything else?" Sunset said into her food. Her face was mostly hidden by hair.

"When shall I expect an invite to the wedding?" Rarity asked as she took another dainty bite.

"Rarity!" Rainbow and Sunset barked her name in unison.

She giggled around her bite. Then swallowed. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I just think it's cute is all. I was kind of thinking it might take alcohol for everything to come out and for you two to start dating but-"

"We aren't dating." Sunset snapped.

Rainbow felt a little tug at her chest, but she still nodded along all the same. "We haven't even. Like. Talked about anything. Not dating though."

Rarity looked between the two of them. "You... but you said." She pointed at Sunset. Then at Rainbow, "And you... I thought." She looked summarily confused at this point. "And then... if you. Upstairs." She pointed above herself with both fingers.

"Rares. I barely remember last night. Like I remember the park, then getting back, dancing, then... some blurry stuff. And that's it." Rainbow shrugged.

Sunset chimed in. "Yep. I'm in the same boat. We... probably drank too much last night."

"We definitely drank too much last night." Rainbow corrected.

Rarity frowned. "Oh. Oh my. Then..."

At that moment Twilight walked in, bleary eyed and stumbling. "Food..." She mumbled like a zombie.

"Over here Twi Twi." Pinkie had stepped back in, with more coffee and water along with a small plate all resting on a waiter's tray. She was tapping on one of the chairs. Twilight wobbled over to it, and sat. Pinkie immediately set coffee and water in front of her. Twilight grabbed for the water without looking. Dash wasn't sure she'd even known what she was about to drink before she put the water to her lips, but she sucked it down regardless, draining the whole glass as Pinkie handed Rarity her coffee and set down the cooked fake meat for Sunset and Fluttershy.

She rushed back over to grab Twilight's glass, then Dash's and replaced both of them with new glasses of water. "Thanks Pinkie." Dash said, and took more greedy gulps of water. Her head was really starting to feel better at this point. "Shouldn't you eat too though?"

"I already ate silly! I nommed on pancakes and bacon and toast while I was chasing everyone but you girls out. Gave em all breakfast of course! Well okay brunch, it is almost noon now after all! Whatever. I just knew I couldn’t send them out onto the streets without a patented Pinkie-Pie-hangover-recovery-meal. I even had bottles of water." She reached into her hair and pulled one out, smiling broadly.

"That's mighty considerate of you Pinkie." AJ tipped her hat.

"Oh! Nah that's not too big a deal! When it comes to parties this big you gotta plan everything or else somebody might leave unhappy and that's no good!” Her bright smile waned a little, turning trepidatious. “Speaking of unhappy, you girls will help me clean this place up, right? My parents knew I was doing a big senior skip day thing today but uh... if things aren't all nice and neat when they get home… well okay, they'd understand but they're gonna be tired after traveling to Fillydelphia for the conference and I don't wanna burden them more by making them pick up cups and do laundry and-"

"Pinkie!" Dash cut in. Her voice eased as she said. "Course we'll help. Or at least I'm in."

The girls around the table followed suit in agreeing to help clean, though most of them specified they wanted to finish their food first. Pinkie was fine with that, and only made one last trip to the kitchen for a pitcher of water this time, before she too sat down at the table. No food in front of her, but clearly happy to be sitting down and eager to chat with her friends.

"Sooooo... how was last night?" Pinkie was looking from Rainbow to Sunset, but Twilight, still buried in her food, didn't notice. She gulped down a huge bite and replied.

"Super fun as always Pinkie! I think... we should maybe cool it for graduation though? Flash threw up in the backyard and I thought I heard someone... oh! Nothing's broken upstairs right?"

Sunset Shimmer groaned and pressed her palms into her face. Dash echoed her, and said with a sigh. "We weren't that loud right?"

"Uh. Sorry Dash, but, ya kinda woke me up actually? I was in the room across the hall. Marble's?" Applejack stopped to turn to Pinkie, who nodded.

"And uh. I don't. Some of it I don't exactly remember but... I heard way more than I ever wanted to."

Sunset groaned again, and Twilight finally caught on to exactly what was being talked about. Her face went from purple to red. "I... that was. You two?” A beat, then. “Did you break something?"

"No!" Dash and Sunset responded in unison.

Twilight shrunk back and though they were both flustered and frustrated, they apologized anyway.

"It's alright I just. I didn't realize. I mean. You were..."

Annoyance flared back into Sunset's face. "We get it. Loud."

Twilight drummed her fingers along the table. "I was going to say I didn't realize the two of you were… a thing." Twilight's face was still glowing red and she seemed very preoccupied with the way her fingers were tapping the table.

"We aren't, a ‘thing.’" Rainbow corrected this time. Her voice was quiet but sharp. She was just glad that they were all at the table now and neither of them would have to set the record straight again.

"But..." Twilight looked between the two of them. Then realization crossed her face, followed very closely by a slight wince. "Right."

"Right." Sunset said matter of factly as she stood, plate clattering as she took it with her. Rainbow's eyes flicked to hers, but when their gazes connected they went right back down to the swirling patterns in the wood.

For several seconds the only sound was Sunset walking across the floor, her boots on wood, and then the door squeaking open. Quiet reigned for several more seconds. Until AJ, closest to Rainbow, asked. "Are... y'all gonna be alright RD?"

"It'll be fine." She grumbled into the table.

"Have you two... talked about it?" Twilight asked now.

"We agreed to wait until after the hangovers cleared some. Not really a fun conversation to have when your head is pounding like a jackhammer."

"Ah." Twilight said softly.

A beat, then two. "Maybe... now would be a good time darling?" Rarity suggested. "We can wait in here while you... hash things out?"

Rainbow groaned, then picked her head up and nodded. She moved to stand, but as she did, an engine revved outside. They all recognized the rumbling sound of Sunset's motorcycle, and Rainbow could only stare, opened-mouthed, as it faded into silence.

"Or... not." Rarity said with a frown.

#my fanfiction #SunDash #SunsetDash #mlp #mlp: equestria girls #I've been meaning to cross post my fic for a hot minute

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pearlypairings · 1 year ago

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⭐️

OKOKOK So I delved deep into my old, ancient files for you to pull out something special for this director's commentary...because why not lol.

it's a deleted scene from Do or Die's epilogue! A little speech from their graduation via Principal Higgins that when I was in the final stages of editing, it felt like too much in that particular moment...

So here's the unedited, deleted memorial speech he gave for Hawkins High:

Now at the football field for the real ceremony, Chrissy tried to keep her focus in the present. She wanted to fully breathe in the final moment of her adolescence that was nearly swept away from her...and Eddie. Their principal cleared his throat for one more announcement before their names would be called. “Today is a reminder of what our youth can accomplish together with resilience, persistence, and collaboration with their peers and our staff. As upcoming members of our community, every student sitting here has met the requirements needed to graduate while conquering the unexpected obstacles that Hawkins has thrown their way. Despite the horrific events of Spring Break, our senior class came together to work hard academically, support one another, and even fundraise for a class gift to memorialize the students we’ve lost this year.” Unveiling a bronze plaque behind a sheet on an easel, Principal Higgins gently laid his hand on the etched names listed down the center. “For Jason Carver, Patrick McKinney, Andy Johnson, Fred Benson, and the like. This will be hung in the main lobby for our forever Tigers."

Chrissy breathed deeply through the pain in her chest to stay calm. She’d known this announcement was coming for a long time, as she’d always been a part of the Hawkins’ graduation committee which usually decides the class’s parting gift. It felt good to honor the victims of Vecna somehow, even if the town didn’t fully understand their sacrifice. “Today, I also recognize not everyone we loved in this community could be in the stands for our graduates. Our natural disaster had taken many people from us too early as well. For all untimely departures, I ask now that we, in solidarity, hold a moment of silence in their memory.” To her left, an empty chair sat a few spots down the row from her seat. One of the symbolic gestures for the loss in the Hawkins community and their senior class. She squeezed her hands, remembering how misguided Jason’s last actions were. If he only saw the truth, Chrissy hoped he would have seen what path he should have taken. She fixed her bangs to cover her forehead, shaking her head and thoughts of things she couldn’t change away. She didn’t have to turn around to know her father would be keeping his chin held high for her mother, putting on a brave face for everyone else. Instead, she shut her eyes tightly to remember all the grounding techniques Ms. Kelley taught her as she shifted through grief and resentment. A profound sadness resounded in that long minute of shared silence. Principal Higgins cleared his throat over the microphone again. “And so, we remember our friends and family that would be gladly celebrating this academic achievement today. Let’s commence with announcing our senior students who will receive their diplomas and our congratulations with special honor.”

I'd probably edit this a bit more and fix a few awkward parts if I'd had the intention of sharing lol, but in the end I wanted the epilogue to focus more on eddie and chrissy's relationship and their bet than anything else !

But hope you enjoyed this director's cut :P (I also had a Nancy Wheeler name called for graduation part, but it was mostly making fun of Ted lmao)

ask me for more director's cuts!

masterlist for ask reference :)

#thanks losty :)#do or die #hellcheer #deleted scenes #hellcheer fanfic #director's commentary #pearly answers #eddie x chrissy

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fanartandfanfiction · 2 years ago

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@callmehopeless posted a prompt

about the hogwarts legacy boys getting down and dirty outside. I chose the Garreth prompt because I loooove him. I've been in a Garreth mood lately. Anyway, here's what I came up with.

18+ CONTENT WARNING, SEXUAL CONTENT

Garreth was nearly done with his potion when he heard a knock on his door. He looked up as Leander and Harper came in.

“Garreth. I thought we discussed brewing potions in our dorm room.” Leander said with a sigh.

“Where else am I supposed to experiment? Sharp said I’m not allowed to use his classroom after hours anymore after last time.”

“Can you blame him? You shot fire out of your mouth like a dragon and caught his jacket on fire.” Harper said as she sat on his bed.

“What are you guys doing here?” Garreth asked as he prepared his last ingredients.”

“Numb nuts here forgot his textbook. I came to see what you were doing.”

“Can you go one single minute without insulting me?” Leander huffed.

“No. It’s my birthright, I earned it.”

“It is not! You’re two minutes older than me!”

“Guys, can you take your bickering elsewhere? I need to focus.” Garreth said. The Prewett twins frequently argued, and normally he enjoyed it (free entertainment!) but not now.

“I’m leaving.” Leander grabbed his book and left with a slam of the door, annoyed by his sister.

“So watcha making?” Harper said from his bed. Truthfully he liked seeing her there. He’d been friends with the Prewett twins for a long time, but he longed for something more with Harper. And seeing her now, on her stomach with her legs in the air, skirt hitched slightly up was doing things to him he didn’t need to focus on right now.

“With this potion, I hope to make the drinker physically stronger.” He said as he sprinkled pearl dust on the top.

“Why are you adding pearl dust?”

“I think it’ll balance out the potion, it’s a bit intense.”

“Wanna go for a walk? It’s really nice outside.”

“Sure.” Garreth smiled and slid his potion in his pocket. Maybe he could try it outside in case he started breathing fire again.

They walked away from Hogwarts and to a field where they’d picnicked with their friends on occasion. It had a large oak tree that provided comfortable shade, even on the hottest days.

“I’m going to try it out here. Maybe I can rip this tree right out of the ground!”

“Find another tree, I like this one. Garreth, you have got to step testing your potions on yourself!”

“Are you volunteering?” Garreth grinned.

“Absolutely not. Go ahead.”

Garreth tipped the potion up to his lips and downed it. He instantly felt a change, but he didn’t think it was strength.

“Well?” Harper asked from under the tree. He looked over and she was suddenly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Her legs were long and tan, her lips were pouty and naturally tinted red, her red hair fell in waves down her shoulders, and her piercing green eyes were boring into his.

“Um. It’s not quite working the way I intended.” He said while gritting his teeth. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to rip that skirt off of her and just-

“Garreth? Are you alright?”

“I…think it’s best if you leave.” He was trying not to look at her, but suddenly she was standing beside him.

“Do you need to go to the hospital wing?” Harper asked, eyes full of concern.

“God, Harper, you’re KILLING ME.” He groaned and tried to think about anything else.

“Me? What did I do?”

“Alright, there’s no polite way to say this but the potion has done something to my sex drive that’s shifted it into high gear and I can’t think of anything else but fucking you right now, so you should probably go.” He put his head in his hands and groaned. He felt a hand on his shoulder and that sent a shiver through his body.

“Maybe I could help you release that tension.” Harper said in his ear. Garreth was clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles were turning white.

“Harper, don’t say things like that.”

“But I mean it. Come on Gare, we’ve both known there’s something here. And right now all I can think about is what I want you to do to me.”

Garreth literally groaned. “Are you sure? This will change things. I don’t want you to regret it.”

“Fuck me, Garreth.” She said in a hot breathy voice in his ear. In a second he’d pinned her against the treel and was kissing her like it was his last day on Earth. He began trying to unbutton her shirt and she started working on his pants. He lost his patience with the buttons and just ripped her shirt wide open.

She gasped as the cold air hit her exposed chest, but he silenced her with a kiss. He couldn’t wait much longer.

“Harper, are you a virgin?” He asked, though truthfully he wasn’t sure if he could be gentle.

“No.” She said with a grin.

“Thank god.” He quickly pulled down his pants and boxers and flipped her around. “Grab onto something.” He groaned as he positioned himself. She grabbed the tree and bent over. Needing no further prompting, he quickly pushed himself all the way inside of her in one thrust. She cried out and he was worried he’d hurt her until she whispered for him to keep going.

He felt like an animal. Nothing would put out the fire inside him until he’d fucked Harper until neither one of them could walk. He began quickly pounding into her, gripping her hips and slamming her against him as he thrusted. She began moaning and it spurred him on. He wrapped her hair around his hand and tugged at it, making her cry out again. Anyone could stumble across them but he didn’t care.

“Garreth!” She moaned his name as he railed her, though nothing seemed to be enough. He needed more.

“On the ground, on your back.” He growled in a throaty voice. She did as she was told and he grabbed her ankles, positioning her so he could go as deep as possible. He slammed into her again and she cried out. This was better.

“FUCK Garreth! Right there!” She was breathing heavily and he obliged, thrusting hard and fast. He could feel that she was close, she was clenching her walls around him and gasping. She came hard, screaming his name and wailing.

“Not done yet.” He whispered, flipping her over. “On your knees.” She got up on her knees and bent over, and he quickly reentered her. The only sounds in the quiet meadow were the slapping of flesh, his grunts, and her moans. He was gripping her hips so hard he was probably leaving bruises.

“Holy shit, Garreth! I’m gonna-” Her second orgasm took both of them by surprise.

“I need to be closer.” He hissed.

“I don’t think you can get any closer.” She let out a giggle as he flipped her over on her back and climbed on top of her. He supported his weight with his elbows and pushed into her again. She cried out and wrapped her legs around him.

“Yes, THIS!” Garreth grinned and pounded harder than he had been. They were down in the grass and dirt, getting absolutely filthy, but neither one of them cared. Suddenly, rain began to fall around them. The tree provided some shelter, but not completely. Harper laughed and Garreth was too focused on fucking her brains out. He kissed her neck as he continued pounding away at her. “Harper…I’m about to come!”

‘

“Me too!” Her nails dug into his back as they both reached their peaks. Garreth let out a primal scream as he thrusted and spilled himself inside of her. She was screaming his name and he felt like he was nearly going to black out. He finally collapsed, the potion’s effects had been relieved.

Harper was breathing heavily underneath him. “I hope you wrote down whatever was in that potion.”

“It wasn’t too rough?” Now that he’d come back to his senses, he was worried he’d hurt her.

“Garreth, you made me come three times. No, it wasn’t too rough.” She kissed him gently and he reciprocated.

“I think it’s safe to say our friendship is ruined. How about you become my girlfriend instead?”

“Works for me.”

“What about your brother?”

“Are you wanting to date him too?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I meant he’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What are we going to do?”

“We’ll deal with that later.”

“Should we head back? We’re absolutely soaked.” Garreth said, feeling guilty for the state they were in.

“Not yet. I want to enjoy my time with you out here. Just the two of us.” He kissed her as the rain came down on both of them.

Leander looked up at the sound of the common room door opening and his jaw dropped. “What the hell happened to you guys?!”

“We fell.”

“Poachers.” They answered at the same time. Harper cleared her throat. “We ran into some poachers. It began to rain and we fell.”

“Well you’re both absolutely filthy. You probably tracked mud all the way here. Go clean yourselves up.” Leander snorted and went upstairs.

“Do you think he meant clean up together, or…?” Harper slapped his arm and they headed towards the bathrooms.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #garreth weasley #fan fiction #fanfic authors #fanfic prompt #hogwarts legacy garreth

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magicalara · 2 years ago

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Silence

"The complete absence of sound"

Aka, I wrote Akutagawa having a breakdown while I myself was having a breakdown. Needless to say, this is probably a bit ooc as I haven't gone through my analyzing everything about bsd stage yet, just sayin'. This is not proof read at all btw

TW: breakdown, mention of guns, trauma in general

Silence.

Pronounced as two syllables, "si" and "lence", it is defined as the "complete absence of sound."

Logically speaking, sitting in a room all alone would be the best way to channel this silence. In the center of an empty room aside from the furniture still just as bare as the day they became trapped within the plain walls along with him, it should be the epitome of silence.

And yet, there they remained, unwilling to give him peace.

The silence he so longed for as he sat straight up, feet neatly tucked below him was just out of reach. The perfect setting; the perfect time; the absolutely disastrous mind.

Eyes glazed over, looking but not seeing, he sat there for what felt like years but couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He waited for the silence to arrive: inwardly impatient, but outwardly frozen in time. It was right there. He could feel it; feel it like the draft that flowed in through the open window; feel it like the strands of hair blocking his vision; feel it like the rapid beating of his heart, he could feel it just out of reach.

So he continued to wait.

He knew what the logical solution that anyone would tell him would be: listening to them. Indulging them until they got bored of playing with him. It would be a logical solution, yes, however, an inevitably reckless one as well, for he knew that making such a decision would just start the roll of the dice. A gamble of his mind. Who would win: it was impossible to tell.

Thus, the torturous purgatory between sweet indulgence and clarifying silence would be where he remained.

Ha- "where."(Not even two minutes into the stalemate and he had already seemed to have succumb to them. Oh well- it was just a delay of the inevitable, anyways.)

That stupid weretiger that they couldn't shut up about- for better or for worse. It wasn't the being itself- no, even if he was clueless and insufferable at times, it was never actually him- but rather the role he played: the role that he was supposed to fill, not that animal that was chosen instead. The stupid feline couldn't even control his own abilities so what was it that made him so much better?

Obedience? Righteousness? Power? Or was it something else entirely?

Was he just simply not enough?

Yes- that had to be it.

If the man he had idolized so much for so long was able to treat that idiot so well, able to change his ways to turn a bullet straight to the head to an encouraging pat on the back, it just meant that he was never worth changing for.

And could he really blame him?

It's not like he was the best subordinate one could ask for, after all. One who carried out each job flawlessly and with no issues at all, who obeyed all orders without a word of defiance, who stood patient, ready and waiting for his next sentence. He wasn't that. He'd never be that.

Pathetic, they called him.

Good for nothing. Useless. Incapable. Hell, you even dragged your sister, the one you were supposed to protect, into this mess. But you can't protect anyone- not yourself and certainly not her.

Louder and louder they got, listing all his failures, all his wrongdoings, all that he couldn't do.

Loveless. You're not worthy like the others are.

At some point during all this, he started to cry, the salty tears wetting his lips, stinging where he had chewed them raw. It gave him enough of a ground to reality to shift his eyes into focus and notice the pure darkness that surrounded him. Too dark to simply be night, no, this darkness was self-inflicted; a punishment to disorientate him further and remind him how truly alone he was.

What would you need to know your surroundings for if no one is to come for you?, they came back to remind him.

And they were right. No one was coming to save him (you wouldn't be worthy of it even if they did). No one would even think to look in his direction. He was the mafia's dog: meant to sit there and be a good boy on his leash until the day he could no longer be revived and beat down again and again and again. That was all he was and that was all he'd ever be.

The darkness persisted for the next few hours.

He felt the tears as they ran down his face and heard them echo in his chamber of despair, roaring like thunder that he tried to convince himself was just outside and not there with him. He sat and cried like the pathetic runt he was. He and them: it was the endless cycle he was made to endure, and endure it he shall.

It wasn't until the morning sun finally peaked out from the horizon that he finally, finally, would feel what he had longed for since he first entered the room. The complete absence of sound as he sat all alone, as he always would be.

Blissful silence.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #akutagawa #ryuunosuke akutagawa #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd atsushi #dazai #atsushi nakajima

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piltover-sharpshooter · 10 days ago

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There came an instant purr the moment Caitlyn's hand brushed against the side of her head and she leaned into it. "Perfect! By Janna, I am starving," Even though she ate a huge lunch, she found herself hungry all over again. Didn't help she had done an insane work out trying to ignore her libido or the fact that she wanted something ENTIRELY different then punching a bag.

As Caitlyn closed the book, Vi shifted to stand her full height, though she was still shorter then Caitlyn and found herself half laughing and rubbing the back of her neck. "I mean… its… yeah," Vi huffed slightly. "Figured I try to just eat and punch things til I got it out of my system," Probably was, it just kept building and building. And Caitlyn smelled absolutely beautiful, and all Vi wanted to do was grab her and wrestle her down against the couch and…

NOPE, VI FOCUS!

"Punch things for the next… month or two," Vi chuffed annoyed at her own animalistic nature. But when Caitlyn said she could give her some attention, Vi's eyes dilated big and round, causing the green to disappear as she grinned. "Really? You remember what happened last time though… I… didn't get off of you for nearly half the day. We might want to get the food first…"

She stood up and stretched, releasing a sigh of pleasure that was rarely reached by anything or anyone else, and gave her best smile. "How can you possibly be starving, I keep the pantry stocked just for you, we lack for nothing." She laughed and leaned in to kiss her again, before putting her arm around Vi's back and guiding her to the bedroom. Those giant dilated pupils were too cute not to reward.

"Vi, please, I'm fine. I might not have fancy Vastayan blood to keep my stamina eternally ready for more, but I am just as hypersexual as you are. Maybe a little bit more" She nibbled on her neck gently, and when they got to the bed gently pushed her down. "Alright, this is the schedule. I'm going to rock your world with high intensity for the next..."Checks watch. "Ten minutes. That should give us enough time for us for your libido to relax for an hour or so, that way we can eat the steak in peace"

"After that you are to make it imposible for me to move for two days. Are we clear?"

#ic #suggestive #long post

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appocalipse · 2 years ago

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hiiii! hope you'll like it! also, it’s a little bit suggestive; wouldn’t call it +18 tho. very very light. idk, but please be warned. ♥ “What? Am I not allowed to look at you?” & “Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?” + eddie munson

quick summary: you and eddie are trying to study in the library — or, at least you are trying to study. eddie is more interested in distracting you…

You and Eddie are sitting around one of many small tables in the school library — this one is round and covered in years of students' scribblings, closer to the wall and more out of sight than most of the others, because you know your boyfriend all too well.

Eddie is sitting on the chair opposite you. Not his own choice, though; it was your idea, hoping to prevent any second intentions he might have. It doesn't work in the least.

"You're staring."

“What? Am I not allowed to look at you?” He has his elbow on the table and his face is resting on his hand, completely ignoring the open math book and all your notes spread out in front of him. He tries to flash an innocent smile, but it's easy for you to see beneath that facade.

“Not like that.”

He chuckles lightly, seemingly enjoying himself all too much, “Like what?”

“Like you’re having inappropriate thoughts.”

You try not to smile; he’d never even consider shifting his attention back to studying if he realized he had a chance to convince you to do something else.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Each of my thoughts about you are inappropriate.”

You're getting flustered. You shake your head and look down so Eddie doesn't notice, pretending to pay attention to the numbers in front of you.

You go back to explaining the subject you're trying to get into his head; it doesn't last 2 minutes before he interrupts.

“Wait, wait. Can’t hear you all the way over here.”

He gets up.

You're on the brink of panic — well, a little.

“Eddie, no,” you whisper-shout at him, all too aware of what’s to come once he sits down beside you — endless teasing. “No, no, no-”

But he's already pulling out his chair and placing it right next to yours, much closer than would be appropriate.

“I’ll behave,” the smirk on his face says he won’t.

“When do you ever?”

The answer is just another smirk that he must think could pass for innocent, and a casual shrug. You move your own chair a little to the side and he pouts before sitting down, motioning for you to continue.

“So, if you got the results right, this…What- what are you doing?”

The tip of his fingers brush your neck; he's moving your hair, baring your left shoulder.

“What? I couldn't see properly. Your hair was in the way.”

You narrow your eyes at him, hoping the glare you're sending his way is enough to make him behave. You go on with the subject and start showing him a few examples, pretending not to notice - or be affected by - his breath on your neck as he leans closer in order to 'see better'.

It lasts for a little while. Until-

“How about you come over tonight?”

Oh, for the love of-

“Eddie, I swear to God-”

“What?” he feigns innocence once again, raising both hands in surrender. “For…studying purposes.”

“Do you know how hard I’m trying to make you focus on this right now?”

“Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?”

You turn to glare at him once again — trying your best to look at least a little bit angry — and find his face all too close to yours, much closer than it probably should be by the librarian’s strict standards. You're lucky you chose this table, you think, cause she rarely ever wandered close by — as Eddie was probably very aware, by the way.

He leans forward, eyes on your lips; you wisely lean back and out of reach.

“Eddie,” a warning. You sound like a broken record by now.

You can pretty much feel his smirk against your skin as he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your neck like it's nobody's business. “Mmm?”

Then he opens his mouth, reaches a certain spot…you all but melt, eyes fluttering closed seemingly on their own.

And…oh my God, this is a library.

“Edward Munson,” you whisper, breathless, moving your neck out of his reach before he could get any other ideas.

You have a hand firm over his chest to hold him in place, but his smirk only grows when his face comes back into view. "You shivered, baby. Are you cold?"

“Don't talk to me," there's a 99% percent chance you're grinning without noticing. "I'm mad at you.”

No, you're not. And he knows you're not.

“Really?” he questions, amused, smile widening ever so slightly. “Just how mad?”

"Jesus, you're impossible."

more drabbles | request here! ♥

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #xreader #stranger things #drabble #eddie munson drabble

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gaysimpsstuff · 4 years ago

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Accidental Turn-Ons; Hawks x Dom! Reader

Genre: angst to fluff to smut

Type: Oneshot

Summary: Hawks returns home from a mission, clearly exhausted, and you take the time to give him a little massage! However, it doesn’t quite have the effects you expected.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: minor dub-con (Y/n doesn't know that what they're doing is sexual for Hawks), stress, minor injuries, Keigo's adorable bird tendencies, sexual innuendo, dom y/n, wing play, feather play, nicknames, edging, dacryphilia, handjobs, aftercare

Other: Yo this might actually be my best smut yet

Inspiration: This was actually inspired by my own piece of work, MHA Characters + Their Biggest Kinks where I spoke about Hawks’ wing and back kink and how it relates to his avian traits.

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore @popcatx0

You paced the living room, glancing between the TV and the door. The news station had cut away from the fight five minutes ago, which meant your boyfriend was either in the hospital getting treated for any injuries he might have sustained, dealing with fans, dealing with paperwork, or on his way home.

Your phone buzzed and you raced to grab it off the couch, fearing an incoming call from the hospital, or a news alert about the well-being of the man you loved.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you realized it was just an email from work, not even marked important. You tossed your phone back onto the couch with a groan.

Wasted build-up. Your mind grumbled

Your eyes flicked back to the TV, watching as the reporter rambled on about yet another stupid thing America had going on as you waited for something, anything to happen. Right when you were getting ready to pick your phone back up from the couch cushions when you heard a light tap tap tappity tap against the thick glass of the sliding glass door that led to your balcony.

You dashed across the living room, accidentally knocking a chair over as you raced to reach the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. You'd recognize his special knock any day, even if he changed it all the time whenever he forgot it. You always had patience with him, you knew he had too many things on his mind with Hero Work to always remember a random knock.

You grabbed the handle, yanking the door open with a wide grin, finally laying eyes on your bird boy. He had a hand stuffed in his pocket, the other rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Hey, Y/n. So sorry I'm late, been flying all day so naturally I'm a little sore. No excuse for missing movie night but-"

"I'm just so glad you're here!" You exclaimed, taking his cheeks in your hands and rubbing at his cheekbones. "I'm so sorry you're hurting, come inside I'll get a heating pack, or a cooling pack, maybe some lotion and I could give you a massage." You babbled, tugging him inside.

"A massage and some cuddles sound great," he sighed, eyes tired. You never liked the fact that Keigo was a hero. He worked too hard, too much, and for so long. He was still young, he should be appreciating life and spending time on himself and with his lover and not with the commission. "Oh I uh, I found this for you."

He took one of your hands off his face, taking his other hand out of his pocket and pressing something cold and smooth into your palm. You opened your fingers, a soft smile growing on your face at the sight of a smooth pretty white rock with grey and black speckles.

"Oh, Kei, this is beautiful. I love it~" you pressed a kiss to Keigo's cheek, loving the way he trilled. He was always so excited to pick up random items he found pretty or interesting, and he'd always give them right to you. It was truly adorable, you loved his gifts. His wings fluttered in happiness for a moment before he winced slightly in pain, happiness vanished in a reminder of his stress from the day.

"Ouch, okay, sitting down time," he muttered, stumbling past you to flop down on the couch. You grabbed the lotion from the kitchen counter (you kept it there for whenever he came home with sore muscles). You set the stone down on the coffee table, tapping it twice in a small show of affection before sitting next to Keigo.

"Shirt off Birdie," you said, squirting some lotion into your palm before rubbing them together.

"Hey, at least buy me a drink first," he chuckled, tugging his jacket off and peeling off his tight hero shirt. You sighed, deciding not to comment on his tacky flirting, knowing you'd been dating for almost a year now.

He turned his back to you, crossing his legs. He folded his wings, lowering them to give you access to his shoulders and shoulder blades. You pressed your fingers against one of his shoulders, finding a large knot almost immediately. You heard him hiss, and your frown increased.

"I know it hurts but it will hurt a lot less when I'm finished," you told him, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck. The hair there rose against your skin, a shiver shooting down his spine. You blinked, confused at his reaction. Maybe it was uncomfortable for him. You resolved not to kiss there again.

You continued to rub against his tightened muscles, listening to his soft hisses and groans. You pulled away after about six minutes, picking up the lotion bottle and squirted some more into your palms.

"Hey, when you finish with mm~ when you finish with that shoulder could you do around my wing joints? Down my spine, y'know?"

"Are there muscles there?" you asked, most people didn't have muscles down their spines, usually it was just the ridges of said bones.

"Yeah, I do," he explained quickly. You nodded pressing into his knot, slowly working down when it eased up. You moved your fingers downwards, feeling his shoulder blades and spine before reaching his wings joints. He shuddered, similar to when you kissed his neck, but a little larger. You hummed, pressing your fingers down and finding another knot, right where his skin turned to bright red feathers.

"Oh, yeah, yeah right there that's perfect." You glanced back up at him, confused, he didn't usually speak when you massaged him, he'd also never asked for a massage so close to his wings, he was usually very cautious about having his wings touched. Maybe he'd just gotten tired of dealing with wing pains by himself, it was probably a lot different from other knots.

"I'm so sorry you have to deal with this," you cooed. "You really deserve a break, it's not healthy to work this hard all the time."

"I know, Little Feather, but it's nng- n-not my fault. The citizens need me." he panted. You sighed, moving your other hand to work out both wings' knots at the same time.

Keigo's head flopped forward, and his hand flew up to slap over his mouth, holding back a soft whine. You lifted an eyebrow in suspicion, there were only a few times when you heard him make noises like that.

Slowly, you pressed your fingers down closer to the underside, right over a few of his downy feathers.

"Oh fuck~" he hissed.

"Okay, that's it." you lifted your hands away from them, holding them in the air. "What the hell's going on with you?" His head whipped around so fast you were surprised it was still attached to his neck. His golden eyes widened, pupils blowing out, nearly completely covering the honey iris.

"W-what?" he exclaimed, feathers puffing up.

"I'm sorry if I seem mad, I'm not, I'm just- very confused. You're literally moaning. I am giving you a massage and you're moaning. Explain."

His cheeks dusted over in pink, and his eyes fell down to his lap.

"Okay uh- fuck I- this was not how I planned on telling you, erm- I promise I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable-"

"Keigo, it's alright, I'm not uncomfortable, just confused. Take a breath darling,"

"Okay, okay, okay." he took a deep breath. "My wings and back are... sensitive, like- in a sexual way. It's why I never let you touch them, I didn't want you to get uncomfortable with that."

"Oh Keigo, you should have just told me, it's perfectly alright, you know I love you, and I love your bird traits. I'm not uncomfortable with this." you smiled sweetly, pressing a hand to his cheek.

"You're- you're not?" he glanced back up at you, golden eyes filled with hope.

"Not in the slightest. To be honest, I don't see why anyone would be uncomfortable with it. It's just another erogenous zone, like someone's neck, ears, or nipples would be. And lots of people keep those bits on display."

"Thanks," he murmured, rubbing his nose against yours. "That does make me feel better, but uh- there's something else.." he trailed off, nervous.

"Your obvious boner? I was gonna leave you to take care of that yourself, but I'll gladly do it for you if you'd like."

"Oh uh-" his cheeks brightened as if attempting to match the tone of his wings. "I would very much like that," he admitted, offering you a slightly nervous smile.

"Anytime, Birdie~" you stood up, hands landing on either side of his waist as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "But I would very much like to experiment with those wings of yours, see what we can do with them. Just how far can we go?" You smirked at him, tongue darting out to moisturize your lips. Keigo let out a soft breath, shifting against the couch to make room for the tent in his pants.

"I- I have thought about using them before- my feathers can move fast, so they can act as a vibrator if I focus, but I could never use it on myself. I know I'd get distracted, then the feather would stop moving, then I'd have to start all over again. I'd basically just be edging myself all night. I know I'd just give up and jerk off."

"I can work with that~" you pressed your lips against his, surprising him. He whined into the kiss, hands flying up to fist your shirt.

Unfair. He thought, he already had his shirt off, and he knew he'd be naked in just a few minutes, but you hadn't taken anything off yet. Knowing you, you would stay clothed just to tease him. The most you would do was lift your shirt a little to show him your stomach before quickly covering it again. That was what you usually did when you dommed. At least for the foreplay.

You pressed the tip of your tongue against his lips, pushing past his defensive barrier of shiny white teeth, perfect for the press, and you licked along the top of his mouth. His whole body shuddered against yours, his hips jerking upwards.

You grabbed his thigh with one hand, squeezing. A warning, he knew, against bucking up again, against disobeying. He tasted your saliva, feeling it pool onto his tongue. His eyes finally drooped closed, enjoying the taste of leftover's from last night's dinner on your tongue.

He whined against the back of your mouth, feeling you move your other hand up towards his back. He already knew what you were going to do. Without pulling away from the kiss, you plucked a feather about the size of his hand from his wings, running a finger down the stem, brushing it against the little red bristles. Soft against your finger, yet forcing Keigo's restrained cock to grow even harder than he ever thought possible.

You slowly pulled back from the kiss, taking his lower lip hostage between your teeth, tugging it as far as it could go before finally releasing it. You felt Keigo's hot breaths fanning out across your face, and your grin only grew. You loved breaking him apart, the strong, well-put-together Hawks was an act only for the cameras, only you could ever know the real him, the horny, whiny, needy baby he truly was.

"Look at you, falling apart already? I've barely done shit to you."

"Fuck- that's just 'cause it's you~" he purred

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, doll." Your shit-eating smirk only grew, and Keigo could feel himself melting into the couch cushions. "C'mon, take 'em off, you're a big boy, I'm sure you can do it yourself."

He nodded, hands flying away from your shirt and grappling with his belt buckle faster than you could say 'Hawks.' He tossed his belt behind the couch, not caring if it hit anything, and quickly shimmied out of his pants and underwear, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock slapped against his stomach, six inches and throbbing.

Looks like his prediction was correct. He was naked. You were not. You didn't look like you were planning on undressing anytime soon, which left Keigo feeling slightly disappointed. However, any negative emotions vanished the second you ran his bright red feather down his nose, over his lips, then under his chin. He knew immediately you were trying to lift his face with the feather, despite the single feather not being strong enough by itself, not unless it was under his control. But he was not in control, you were, and fuck it if that wasn't the best part.

"Good boy~" you praised him, sliding a hand up his bare thigh, brushing it carelessly close to his dick. He bit his lip, eyes flicking between your hand and your eyes.

"Please, please touch me," he whispered, slightly embarrassed by the situation. It had been a long while since you'd last had sex, and an even longer while since you had been the dom. He'd all but forgotten how to properly beg. You could tell.

"Come on, doll, I know you can ask me nicely, or at least better than that." He groaned, hands gripping your hips and attempting to tug you into his lap, a plan formulating in his head that ended in an amazing thighjob. But his plans never worked, not at least with you involved. No, you were too stubborn, one of the many things he loved about you. But not really in this precise situation.

"Nah ah ah~ hands off the merchandise." Your hand squeezed his thigh again, twice this time. That was all he needed to let go. He found purchase in a nearby pillow, moving it behind him and tugging on the little dangly bits on the corners. He forgot what they were called but he was ninety-five percent sure it started with a 'D' or something.

"Fuck, please, I need it, you know I need it, I-I've been nothing but good all day, please touch me, please~" He whined, eyebrows furrowing. That plus his reddened cheeks made just the cutest face. You couldn't wait to make his eyes go crooked and for him to drool.

"That's it, good boy~" You ran the tip of the feather up his cock, circling the tip. He shivered in response, biting back a loud moan. "Come on, don't make me mad, vibrate yourself with your feather~" you cooed, teasing tone making his stomach churn in the best way possible.

He bit his lip, looking down at the feather slowly circling the tip of his dick. It had already nudged his foreskin downwards, leaving the red skin fully exposed. He took a deep breath, trying to block out your presence, and how hard he was, just focusing on the single red feather, twirling around in loops.

He felt it twitch against his skin, before finally starting to shake, then at last it was vibrating. He twitched it away from his dick, slightly nervous about how it might feel. You sighed, pressing it directly onto the little hole at the tip.

"Ghhh- oh fuckkkkk~" he moaned, pressing his head against the couch cushions. It felt better than he ever possibly could have imagined. Feeling the feather on his dick, his dick against his feather, it was double the pleasure. He whined loudly when the vibrations suddenly stopped. "Nooooo I want it, bring it back, please," he begged, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Doll I didn't even do anything. You lost focus. You gotta try a little harder." you said, tapping the feather against him again. Pre-cum stuck to it, making red glisten with a little bit of white. He cursed at the sight (and feeling) of his own pre on his feather.

Soon enough, it started to buzz again. And you put it back on him. This time, you traced it up and down his base, running it over the tip again. One of his hands flew up to his mouth, knuckles pressing against his lips. His hips bucked up against the vibrating feather.

"Ooooohhhhhh fuckfuckfuckfuck so goooood~" he moaned loudly. Again, the buzzing stopped without warning. "Nooo fuck no! I need it please fuck!" He looked like he was on the verge of tears- no way it was really that good. You'd have to ask him to use his feathers on you sometime.

"I know baby, I know," you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly. His breath hitched, golden eyes filling with tears of pleasure. "But you gotta focus to get it done, okay?" he nodded, wiping his tears, but he only managed to spread the warm, salty liquid over his face, making him appear even more debauched.

How cute

You wrapped your hand around his dick when it started to vibrate again, the feather curled up between your palm and his dick. Slowly, you began to jerk him off, feeling the feather vibrate faster than you'd felt any toy vibrate, and his dick throbbing and pulsing against you left you feeling like you just might cum in your pants.

"FUCK!" he shouted, back arching off the couch. One of his legs flew upwards, toes curling around the air. He was shaking at this point, looking like he was just on the verge of cumming. "Oh, Godddd fuckkkmeeeee~" he wailed, tears overflowing and falling down his flushed cheeks.

"No god's gonna fuck you, darling, only I will because you belong to me. Isn't that right?" You pulled on his hair and his moans grew louder, the vibrations intensifying, which you thought was impossible at the rate it had been buzzing against your skin and his.

"Youuuuu fuck- I- I belong to youuuu~" he moaned, hiccuping a little.

"Fuck, you're so fucking cute like this, so adorable when you fall apart beneath me, gonna break soon?" He sniffed loudly, nodding. His moan broke out into a disappointed wail when the vibrations stopped again. He tried to get it to move but it just wasn't going to. You opened your palm, revealing the feather, the stem bent awkwardly. Hawks sighed, sadness filling his eyes.

"I was just 'bout to cum too..." he whimpered.

"Oh, you'll still cum. We don't need anything else between us anymore~" you tossed the feather aside before spitting into your palm, beginning to jerk him off again. It certainly didn't feel nearly as good as it did with the feather, but at this point, he was so close he just couldn't give two fucks about how good it felt, just that it would get him where he needs.

"Oh yes yes yes fuck yes more more- gonna cum gonna cum ooooh fuck baby you're gonna make me cum!" He cried out, bucking up into your hand, sobbing as pre ran down the sides of his dick and onto your fingers.

You pulled him to you by his hair, loving the loud moan he let out from the pain. You pressed your lips right up against his ear.

"Then fucking cum, my baby boy~" you purred seductively. Moments later, his whole body spasmed, legs shaking violently and wings flaring outwards. He wailed, screaming as he finally came into your hand, white ribbons landing on his legs, stomach, and even a little on the couch. Subconsciously, he knew he'd have to clean that up later, but he was not about to worry about that right now.

"Godamn! If that wasn't the hottest thing I've ever seen!" you exclaimed, truly in awe at just how good his orgasm looked. He had gone limp, flopped back against the couch, and panting. You pulled your hand away from his dick, licking away the bits of cum from your skin before sitting down next to him, tugging his body closer to you.

"Unf, that was the best damn orgasm of my life," he murmured, voice a little hoarse.

"Looked like it, you alright darling? Can I get you anything? Water, blankets, bath?" You worried a little, hoping you didn't completely brain-fuck him.

"Jus' some cuddles." his head flopped down on your shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he yawned.

"Hey birdie, don't fall asleep on me," you chuckled. "We still gotta get you all cleaned up and put in bed."

"Not... a problem..." he whispered, breath tickling your skin as he nodded off.

"Heh, that's a problem," you smiled affectionately. He deserved his rest. You resolved to stay still for a little while, then clean him up as gently as you could before carrying him to bed. He wasn't that heavy, after all. "I love you, my darling Keigo~" you whispered, resting your head on top of his and closing your eyes.

Maybe the mess could be cleaned tomorrow, you were also very tired.

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