#maybe i'll clean it up over winter break

[flecks-of-stardust]

[ID in alt text]

four of them now!

[bensonoliviasstuff]

“Turning Page”

Chapter two! “ Loml”

Masterlist for “Turning Page”

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Once Bucky regained consciousness and was no longer the Winter Soldier, all he missed from the 40s was his wife. But maybe she's closer than he thought.

Warnings: English is NOT my first language, so I'm sorry if there are too many errors. Futhermore i don't think there are many warnings, a little bit of angst, memory loss, betrayal, trauma, Insecurities and other things that you will discover throughout the story. And the best part: Thanos doesn't exist here

“Steve?” You said with a mixture of shock and joy. “Long time no see!”

Bucky frowned as he saw Steve smile at the beautiful nurse before them.

“I thought you were still in Washington” Steve flinched when you gave him a hug, squeezing the bruise that threatened to form on his rib.

“Did you get into another fight?” You said observing the dried blood on his cheekbone “Some things never change”

As you turned to grab the material you would use to clean Steve's face, Bucky discreetly elbowed his best friend before whispering. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your pretty friend?”

Steve rolled his eyes before you turned your attention back to him. “Y/N, this is Bucky, Bucky Barnes, I already told you about him” Steve pointed to his smiling friend next to him “Bucky, this is Y/N Y/L/N, my friend and ex neighbor since we were 16 .”

You looked up at Bucky and it seemed to him that things went in slow motion when you smiled, he almost didn't hear you when you said “Nice to meet you”.

He gave a slight shake of his head to regain consciousness and turned to Steve. “If you've been friends for so long, why have I never met this beautiful girl?” You gave a sheepish smile as you bandaged Steve.

“First: you would flirt with her exactly like you are doing now” You laughed softly and Bucky was sure that was how angels laughed. “Second: She went to nursing school in Washington a while ago, I didn’t know she had come back until now.”

“I'm sorry I didn't warn you, I came back a little while ago and things have been busy, but we'll see each other more often from now on.” You said, taking off your gloves.

“That’s a splendid idea” Bucky said, if you had gone to college maybe Bucky should start improving his vocabulary.

You smiled at him before turning to Steve “I finished, you can go, I have to do a blood draw, but let's plan to have a milkshake, I missed you” then you turned to Bucky. “I hope to see you again, Bucky Barnes.”

“You can count on it” He winked at you before you left the room shaking your head.

“Look, we've been friends for a long time, don't even think about it” Steve pointed his finger at Bucky who was smiling with hearts in his eyes. “I'm serious, if she doesn't want to be my friend anymore because I introduced you two, I'll break you”

Steve stood up and left, Bucky behind him muttering “It’s easier for her to break me” with a smile.

After that day, it was quite funny for you to see Bucky every day in the hospital with some mysterious illness that only you could treat.

Sometimes he would arrive saying he had a really bad migraine, sometimes he would arrive with a terrible stomach ache, all this when he didn't arrive saying he had a fever only for you to put your hand on his forehead and say his temperature was normal.

Your friends from work at the hospital were already more excited than you were, always talking about how that handsome man was wooing you.

You always laughed at these crazy ideas, for you he was just a flirt who flirted with all the girls, but you had to admit that you were starting to get attached to his visits to the hospital.

One day in particular changed your view of him.

Your duty was almost over, you had already changed your clothes and grabbed your bag to leave, Bucky hadn't come to see you today.

You were sad, you spent half of the duty wondering what could have happened, you had come to the conclusion that he had found another girl and lost interest in you.

You said goodbye to your friends and were leaning against the reception desk, looking for a hair tie in your bag.

You had found it and were finally tying up your hair when you heard a familiar voice call out to you.

You turned around and found Bucky a few feet away, holding a bouquet of colorful flowers.

Your friends who were behind the desk began to sigh and squeal excitedly, you placed a hand over your mouth, hiding the wide smile that was about to spread across your cheeks.

“Oh Bucky, what happened now?” You teased, crossing your arms against your chest. “Pollen allergy?”

He laughed, hiding his face behind the flowers. “Actually, miss, it's a very serious allergy to 'being away from you'” You blushed when he approached and your friends sang a chorus of “Ownnn how cute!”.

“This one should be easier to deal with” you said as he approached.

“There is only one treatment option” He said with conviction, making you laugh.

"And what would be?"

“You agree to go out with me” he said and extended the flowers towards her.

You took them and smiled “I would love to.”

“Exams state that she has some internal injuries that have not been treated correctly, her brain has been badly affected so she is going to be treated for the headaches that will definitely bother her for the rest of her life” Tony was listing while Steve and Bucky followed him towards the medical wing with quick steps.

“She's also going to need physical therapy because apparently her shoulder ligament was torn at least three times, and lastly most importantly…” Tony stopped in front of a door turning to Steve and Bucky with a hard look “She She hasn’t spoken a word since she opened her eye, we don’t know if she just didn’t want to talk or if there was something behind it.”

Bucky was shaking, he couldn't even imagine what your reaction would be like.

Tony opened the door and walked in, Steve was right behind him when Bucky pulled him out of the room.

“I don’t know if I should go” Bucky said unsure, Steve frowned.

“Bucky, she’s still your wife, why don’t you want to see her after so many years apart?” Steve grabbed his friend by the shoulders.

“That’s the point Steve, I want to see her more than anything, but what if she doesn’t want to see me?” Bucky asked nervously. “What if she doesn’t even remember me? What should i say? ‘Hi, I’m your husband, we’ve been married for almost eighty years, bizarre right’?” Bucky acted out to Steve. “I'm no longer the Bucky she fell in love with, I'm no longer the person who made her laugh until her stomach hurts, I haven't made anyone laugh in over seventy years” He said scratching the back of his head nervously.

“What if she doesn’t like the new Bucky? What if she doesn’t like sleeping hugged by a metal arm?” He raised his left hand, showing the wedding ring above the metal finger. “What if she doesn’t love grumpy Bucky?”

“What if she does?” Steve interrupted before he could continue. “What if she likes the metal arm? What if she starts to love annoying a Bucky who gets stressed about everything?”

Steve raised his arms, dropping them to his sides. “As far as I remember, the last time I saw her she even loved Bucky who was supposedly not alive.”

“She probably doesn’t remember that” Bucky ran a hand over his face.

“So make her remember, if today you remember so can she, you heard what the scientist said, she always ended up remembering you” Steve put his hand on the door “You haven't changed enough to have stopped loving her"

Steve entered the room, and Bucky unconsciously held his breath as he did the same.

You didn't see him right away, you were paying attention to what Tony was doing with the equipment next to you.

Bucky kept close to the door, thinking he could slip away without being noticed if he was lucky, but that was when you turned your head towards him.

It was exactly the same as when he saw you for the first time, your eyes met his and everything seemed to be in slow motion, if he ignored everything and just kept looking at you, he could easily believe that it was still the summer of 1941.

You didn't know why, but you couldn't look away, something about that man made you want to keep looking at him, his blue eyes were familiar to the butterflies in your stomach.

“Y/n... Do you know them two?” Tony pointed at Steve and Bucky.

You looked away from the man with blue eyes that made your stomach do somersaults and glanced at the blonde who was looking at you expectantly.

Something about him made you have a déjà vu about a smaller man.

You looked away from him and looked at Tony before he speaks: “That’s Bucky, and that’s Steve” You looked back at the men, you assumed the brunette was Bucky.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know them” You apologized, seeing Bucky’s gaze drop as if you had just broken the news that someone had died. “I… I’m sorry, should I?”

“No, it’s okay” Steve said, with a sad smile.

Tony picked up a bag and placed it on the furniture next to him. “Here are some clean, comfortable clothes, I believe they are in your size, let’s wait outside while you change.”

Tony dragged the other two out of the room and started messing with something on his cell phone.

“Tony?” Bucky called cautiously, “Thank you for what you’re doing.”

“Don’t thank me” Tony looked up “We both know I still don’t like you”

Steve gave a weak smile at Tony's statement, Bucky nodded, raising his hands in surrender.

“But I know what I would feel if Pepper forgot about me” Tony looked away. “That’s why I’m helping.”

"I thank you for that"

The three looked to the door when they heard it open.

Bucky held his breath when you walked out of there wearing sweatpants and a “S.H.I.E.L.D” sweatshirt.

“Great, the clothes fit, now let’s go” Tony said, putting away his cell phone “That brunette over there is going to show you to your room”

“There are two bedrooms here” The real estate agent continued walking around the apartment. “This is where our Tour ends, I think it's the perfect apartment for you, it has a beautiful view of the city, it's close to the hospital where you work, and there's plenty of space for two people, or even three if you're thinking of start a family soon.”

You turned to Bucky with a smile on your face, the apartment was a bit trashed, but you could perfectly imagine everything you and Bucky would change in it to make it 'home'.

“What do you think, doll?” Bucky asked with a smile.

“I don’t think it could be more perfect”

This is the kitchen” Bucky said, showing the room that Tony made sure was empty.

After almost killing Tony and Steve for leaving him alone with you, he followed the path beside you, He tried a few times to make comments, but you just looked at him, smiled and responded with a nod.

He then stayed quiet, taking every opportunity he had to just keep his eyes on you, he would never pass up the chance to watch you bite your nails or bite your bottom lip, everything you did was like the best movie in the catalog for Bucky.

He watched with an adoring look as you walked around the kitchen, taking in every detail, you did the same in every other room, taking in everything and not saying a word.

“There are coffee grounds in the disposal” It was the first time you said anything since they left the hospital room.

Bucky gave the most genuine laugh he'd ever had since he could remember being Bucky Barnes, he felt so much joy over such a stupid comment because it sounded exactly like something you would say.

You couldn't help but smile at his laugh, something about that man made you feel like you couldn't avoid many things.

"Yes! Tony always complains about it, no one ever listens.”

You licked your lips, hiding your smile.

“The next thing I’m going to show you is your room” Bucky said, now smiling.

“Do I have a room?” you frowned when Bucky nodded like it was obvious. “Why are you being so nice?”

Bucky felt his heart beat faster, Is this when he says he loves you?

I mean...” you continued before he made a decision. That man in armor took me out of that horrible place, gave me medicine, did tests, and now you’re going to keep me sleeping here?” You shrugged your shoulders “You guys don’t even know me”

“This is what we do” he lied, it was all a lie, He never did for anyone what he would do for you “We help people who need help” lie, his brain screamed that he was lying, he knew you, he knows you, only he knows how you hate the dark and are afraid of needles even though you are a nurse, His heart screamed, asking him to tell you that only he knew you better than you knew yourself. “I would do this for anyone”

“Even by those you don't even know? What if I were dangerous?” You weren't, you asked him to kill every cockroach that ever appeared in your apartment, He knew you, it was killing him to be in front of you saying he didn't know who you were.

“I trust you” His vocal chords were trembling

“Why?”

“I feel like I should” Holy Ghost, you were the love of his life, even if he didn't want to he would trust you.

You stayed silent, looking at the man who looked like he was in physical pain with every word that left his mouth.

“I feel like I should trust you too” felt like the right thing to say.

Bucky felt all the fireworks in the world going off inside his stomach.

“I will prove to you that you can trust me” That was a promise, both for you and for him, at that moment he promised that he would win you over, just like he did the first time, You were the loss of his life for a long time, but now he would have you back

[gingiesworld]

Nextdoor Neighbor Milf Wanda Maximoff x Young Adult Male Reader (like fresh out of college type or smth) plz?

Thanks and have a nice day.

MILF Wanda Maximoff (37) x M! Reader (20)

Warnings: Smut

18+ MINORS DNI

Infatuation

Since Y/N had come home for winter break, Wanda was intrigued by her neighbours son. She would watch as he hung the outside christmas lights for his mom. Although Wanda had never spoke to him, she wanted to. She wanted to get to know him, so when Brenda invited them over one evening for dinner and a drink, Wanda couldn't pass it up.

As her husband was conversing with Trevor about something, Brenda had asked Y/N to set up his old console for the twins. So once he had given them the controllers and the choice of games, he stood behind the sofa.

"Do you like games Ms Maximoff?" Y/N asked her as she stood beside him.

"I used to play Crash Bandicoot on the playstation when I was younger." She told him.

"I think I have one of those." He mumbled as Wanda eyed him with a smirk. "I know, I'm a nerd." He chuckled as she smiled at him.

"Your mom tells me that you know your way around a boiler?" Wanda asked him.

"Yeah? Do you need me to look at it?" He asked her as she nodded with a smile.

"Let me just tell Vis and ask if it's ok to leave the boys here." She told him as he nodded. Heading to his room for his toolbox. When she approached him, she led him inside her home. "I'm not sure what the problem is but the pilot light doesn't seem to be working properly and the water isn't warming up properly."

"It's just an easy fix." Y/N told her as he explained what he needed to do, showing her as he had done it. "See, simple." He smiled as he ran the hot tap.

"Thank you Y/N." Wanda beamed as she hugged him. "Vision is useless when it comes to all of this stuff."

"That's ok Wanda." He smiled at her before grabbing his toolbox, leading her back to his parents house. That was just Wanda's infatuation of the younger male. She would watch as he mowed his parents lawn, even working on his dad's car, changing the oil. She knew that she wanted him and she was adament in getting what she wanted.

"Y/N, do you want a drink and maybe some lunch?" Wanda asked as she approached them as they wiped their hands.

"Sure, just let me clean up here and I'll knock on in a few." He told her softly as she nodded. Dancing around the kitchen as she made some sandwiches. With the twins at her brother's and Vision was at work, she had the house to herself.

"So, I made some sandwiches if that's ok." Wanda beamed as she answered the door, leading him inside to the living room.

"This is amazing. Thank you Wanda." He smiled at her as the two sat on the sofa. "So where are the twins and Vision?"

"My brother has the boys and Vision is at work." She told him with a small smile.

"Vision doesn't really make you happy does he?" Y/N questioned as Wanda shrugged. "I can tell by the look in your eyes when I mention him. It's dull. Not your usual sparkle that you have when you talk about the twins."

"What about when I talk about you?" She asked as her fingers danced on his forearm. "I feel things when I think about you." She whispered as she moved closer to him. "Do you want to know what?" She questioned as he answered with a weak nod. Her hands massaging his shoulders. "I get wet when I think about you. Just working on the car or mowing the lawn. Then it get's better." She whispered before leaning in to whisper in his ear. "Then I think about your fingers, inside of me. Making me scream before you fuck me." She moved her hand down to his, moving his arm up to her breast, having him squeeze it through her top.

"Wanda." He gasped as he massaged her. "You're married." He reminded her.

"I need you Y/N." She whispered as she removed her top. Leaving her chest bare since she chose to go braless. "So much and I can see you need me too." She removed her jeans and underwear before she straddled his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck as she started to roll her hips against his hardened cock trying to break free from his jeans.

"Fuck." He groaned as he watched her try to fuck herself. So he decided the reach between them and undo his jeans and pull them down slightly. Allowing his dick to spring free, the two moaning as he teased her entrance with the tip. "Ride me." He told her as he gripped her jaw before he kissed her roughly. Wanda lowered herself down on his cock, finding her rhythm as he swallowed her moans. She moved back slightly, wanting him to remove his top. Groaning at the sight of his abs, sighing as she felt his skin on hers.

"Oh god." She moaned lewdly as she continued, feeling herself getting closer as Y/N met her thrusts. "I'm gonna." She screamed his name as she came, feeling him twitch inside of her as he sprayed her walls white. The two a sweaty mess before she pulled away, kissing him before they chuckled. "We will definitely be doing that again."

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Trey Clover - New Year's Attire Voice Lines

When Summoned: Welcome! Everyone come and enjoy the New Year's Sale without pushing or rushing, now.

Summon Line: Happy New Year. Haha, it's pretty chilly today. Make sure you don't start the year off by catching a cold.

Groooovy!!: I think I've pretty much gotten a handle on throwing these ＫＯＭＡ. Alright, time for the next battle. I'll take anyone on.

Home: Did I put this on right...?

Home Idle 1: My end-of-year cleaning? I finished that before we got into the holiday break. I had a hard time in the kitchen what with how stubborn the grime was on the stove and vents...

Home Idle 2: I'm currently asking Sam if he'll stock up on ＭＡＴＣＨＡ. I'd really like to try pairing some kind of sweet with that sophisticated aroma.

Home Idle 3: Rook squeezed onto the shop ads so much flowery prose praising all the products... I don't know if anyone could read it without a loupe.

Home Idle - Login: Over in the East, apparently it's said that it's good luck to catch the first sunrise of the new year. Were you able to see it?

Home Idle - Groovy: Don't go buying too much just because it's on sale. Think carefully on whether you really need it... Alright?

Home Tap 1: So this is the attire for New Year's, hm... The sleeves are pretty open, but there're multiple thick layers around my torso keeping me warm and it's still surprisingly easy to move around in.

Home Tap 2: Ortho is amazing. His sensors can check the inventory of each product in no time flat. It's great working alongside someone I can rely on.

Home Tap 3: If you're looking for mountaineering gear, you can't go wrong with asking Jade. Not only will he show you the high-quality products, he'll also go in-depth into explaining everything... Really passionately...

Home Tap 4: Oh, hey, your nose is all red from the cold. Here, take a heating pack. I have more, so go on, take it.

Home Tap 5: Hm, you want a scarf? Well... Oh, maybe if I ask Sam, he can lend you a spare one. Just wait a sec.

Home Tap - Groovy: Do you have any plans for the winter this year? If not, what if you got a temp job at a cake shop...? Haha, I'm just kidding.

Duo: [TREY]: Can you lend me a hand, Ortho? [ORTHO]: Let's finish this up quickly, Trey-san!

Requested by @farfalla049.

[saiintvalentiine]

three dog night

Summary: three dog night - a night so cold that it would take three dogs to keep warm.

It's the longest night of the year. It's the coldest too. Something escapes into the depth of the forest, and Wato is about to find out an unfortunate truth.

Word count: 3,081

Notes: heavily inspired by stories of the Korean gumiho, I bring to you: my insane ramblings that I'll be passing off as a Christmas gift for you guys. This is a real mess so you'll have to super suspend your disbelief for it. Warnings for gore, violence, and death. Feel free to point out any SPAG errors, b/c this is unedited af. Enjoy.

The cold feels good. It's painful on his face, biting his nose and chapping his lips. But his heart, missing its pearl and as black as the night sky, beats easier in the freezing temperatures.

The hunger is the only thing keeping him upright.

He has no idea how long it's been since he escaped the facility. Time moves like sludge in the winter, white flakes on his white hair on a white world, with only the white moon watching between the pines. It can't have been more than a few hours.

There's a man walking. He's walking through a forest alone, which is strange and dangerous, but the man smells like liquor. It travels through the air like a whip crack, his tail puffing up in subconscious disgust. A rotten liver. But the man’s heartbeat is strong and hot and loud, and he is oh so hungry.

Even in his current state, it's easy to crack the man's skull open with a rock. His body gags, tries to bring his pearl up only to come up empty. Pearlless. A dud. He doesn't care. He descends upon the body, tearing through fabric and flesh all the same, and finds the still-beating heart between splintered rib bones. The first bite is too hasty, splatters blood all over the exsanguinating corpse and his face and clothes, but the hunger dulls— it's not about the blood, after all, although it does soothe his throat. He eats every scrap of muscle until his breath starts to run hot enough to fog in the air.

The liver is, in fact, rotten to the taste, but he eats it anyway. None of the other organs entice him, speak to him, demand his teeth on their sanguine surfaces. He contemplates taking the man's shoes, but as he licks his hands clean, he decides he's taken enough. The body would dissolve away soon enough.

He struggles to stand up, snow sinking and melting with the warm blood. He's still hungry. He gags again, coughs out a spray of sparkling black. No pearl. Just the starry darkness on his chest. If he doesn't keep eating, he won't last, not without a pearl.

He tries to wipe the blood off of his face, but he can't see if he's making any progress. Burying his hands in fresh snow, he rubs it into his face, pointed ears flicking to catch any suspicious sound.

He stands up, bare feet padding through the snow in a staccato. His face is wet and cold, globs of pink snow dripping down from his cheeks. He doesn't really know where he's going, just that he is, and that he needs to eat again.

It's the longest night of the year. If there's one drunk, there's a hundred. He'll eat again or he'll die, and he can't die so soon after breaking free, so he will eat again.

Wato is pretty good with the cold. It doesn’t bother them as badly, wolf blooded as they are, but it’s still cold as fuck out here. They heard someone say it was going to be the coldest night of the season tonight, which they’re not too sure about, but it feels like the coldest night of the season so far. Though—

Wato’s memory has been spotty lately. They’d never say that their memory was the best, but it had never been so bad. They’re not even really sure what they’re doing in this town surrounded far and wide by an old growth taiga. This is, maybe, they think, the town where Wifies has his big ole escape room warehouse. Craning their head, Wato spots the looming shape of the bulky building, taller than most of the buildings in town but smaller than the spruce trees. Wato’s been there a few times, helped make a few rooms. Checking their chat, it looks like that’s exactly what Wato was doing here. The last message in Wifies’s chat is from Wato announcing they’d arrived.

Memory problems are no joke. Wato really needs to get onto fixing it. It's just a bad season for that kind of thing, with daylight hours so scant and time already stretched thin.

Walking through town feels like walking through a shut-down movie set. Everything is quiet, the only movement coming from a bar Wato passes with disinterest. The snow dampens all sound, freshly laid though the sky is clear now, so low and quiet that even their ears struggle to catch much. There’s a clear border where the town ends and the forest starts, and Wato stands on the threshold. Digging through their pockets, they’re thrilled to find their box of cigs and lighter. Popping the box open, they snort. One cigarette is left, flipped around.

“It’s my lucky,” Wato mutters, pulling it out of the box and flipping it back over the right way.

Holding the correct end in their mouth, they struggle with their lighter for a few moments. It sparks but doesn’t light, and the wind isn’t helping. Through the sharp, grating noise of the sparkwheel failing over and over, they hear. . . something. It’s quiet, but it sounds like someone panting or breathing heavily. Their ears flick, angling towards the forest. Glancing over, Wato doesn’t see much, but the treeline is thick and dark. They pocket the cigarette and lighter.

“Hello?” Wato calls out. “Is there anyone out there? You okay?”

The noise stops. The crunch of snow takes over. Someone with a notable limp from the sound of it.

“Hey, if you need help, there’s still places open in town,” Wato calls out.

Their suit and loafers are ill equipped for the snow. At least the streets are salted. They’re not going into the brush if they can help it. There’s movement, tree branches shaking and shedding a thin layer of snow. From behind an ancient trunk, a white head with pointed white ears appear— and then red, staining the tangled tips and neck of—

“Wifies?!”

Wifies— it can’t be Wifies, Wifies has dark hair and soft, folded ears that are only mottled with small spots of white. But it’s Wifies’s face, gaunt maybe, eyes the wrong color, a shimmery violet-gold instead of deep dark brow.

Those violet eyes dilate. The pupil eats the iris up until he looks more right. Wato takes a step towards him, slow, since they don’t want to startle him if he’s hurt.

Wifies books it in the other direction.

Wato doesn’t think about it; they make chase. They’re not sure if it’s concern for Wifies, or an unfortunate trigger of their prey drive, but it doesn’t matter. They can’t just let Wifies (maybe Wifies?) go if he’s hurt. The scent of blood is thick, tangy, easy to follow, and Wato lets their nose guide them to weave between trees.

The limp is even more noticeable now that they can see him, along with the absolutely drenched state of his clothes, with both blood and water. Even in their horrible shoes, they catch up to him easily.

“Wifies! Slow down!”

He might say something like no, but the air whipping past them both destroys all sound. Wato hates to do this, but they can’t think of a better solution. Bracing their shoulder, they speed up and ram right into Wifies’s back, knocking him flat. Wifies goes rolling, like a white and grey bowling ball, crashing into the stump of a felled tree. Wato cringes as they slow down.

“Sorry! I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to stop you!”

Wato slows down, crouching in front of Wifies, body winded from the chase.

“Wifies—”

He darts up and hisses, all animal instinct and fear and sharp, sharp teeth. Wato doesn’t flinch. This. . . Imposter Wifies? Is clearly some kind of fox, tail puffed and ears pinned in fear. Wato can out run him if need be. Foxes are sly but he’s already hurt and slow. He struggles to climb over the tree stump and away from Wato while keeping eye contact.

“You’re not Wifies,” Wato says. “But you look like him. Who are you?”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, voice crackling, sounding just like Wifies, a non answer. “I like you. You were nice to me. But I’m hungry, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

What?

There’s a crack. Both Wato and the fox snap to attention. The wind that cuts through the trees is blowing away from both them and the noise, so Wato can’t smell anything about what it might have been. The fox shifts until he’s behind the stump, and Wato can tell he’s getting ready to run again.

“Your leg’s busted,” Wato whispers, still staring into the depths of the forest. “Where are you even gonna go?”

“I need to eat,” the fox says, then again, “I need to eat,” and then he spirals, hysterical but quiet, “I need to eat, I need to eat, I need to eat.”

Another crack. The fox scrambles back. An arrow whizzes through the air, burying deep into the top of the stump at an angle. Wato jumps away, and the fox scuttles like some kind of prey animal behind a tree.

“Did I get him?”

It's disorienting seeing Wifies, the Wifies that Wato knows, come into the clearing, while the fox that wears his face sits only a few feet away. He’s holding a crossbow and is wearing a lab coat that has to be doing absolutely nothing for the cold.

“Did you just try to shoot him?” Wato says, processing what just happened.

Wifies glances over, void eyes sucking in the bright moonlight like blackholes.

“He stole my face, Wato,” Wifies says, a black ear twitching. Wato can’t help but flick their own ear out. “Plus, he’s not some innocent little fox.”

“He’s already hurt.”

“Oh? Did you get that eating your first real heart, 24?”

The fox gags. It’s a disgusting noise, like he’s trying to drag something up and out of him, but nothing happens— at least Wato can’t hear him throw up or anything of the like.

“No pearl, no heart, no name,” Wifies notches another arrow in his crossbow, and Wato feels their hackles rise. “And a stolen face. Make this easy for me, 24.”

“I’m not going back,” the fox says, snow crunching as he retreats.

“Wifies, what’s going on?” Wato inches closer. “I was here today. We were working together. This is—”

“I was hoping you would’ve left already, because prolonged exposure makes you hard to control,” Wifies sighs, pulling something out from the inner pocket of his lab coat. “But I guess I can work with a few more hours of exposure.”

Wato sees the mask. It’s the Omz Mask, the one they had to pry off of Ken’s face. How the fuck was it here? Why did Wifies have it? The crossbow is pointed at Wato, mask held out casually.

“Put it on,” Wifies says.

“Do you even know what you’re holding?” Wato asks, stepping back. Wifies matches them step for step.

“I know. Put it on.”

“No.”

The crossbow fires, and Wato dodges, but it manages to clip their shoulder. Harming radiates off the wound, blurring their vision. Wifies notches another arrow.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Put it on.”

Jesus fucking Christ, what has Wato gotten into? Their eyes dark around, trying to find— something! Anything! A wisp of red circles behind Wifies.

“I won’t,” Wato says, voice rising. “What’s gotten into you?! Put the fucking crossbow down. That mask is dangerous, Wifies, it destroys the psyche of whoever wears it, did you hear what it did to Kenadian?!”

“It was Kenadian’s blunder that allowed me to get to it in the first place. He’s the fool who—”

A branch cracks across Wifies’s temple, thick and dark and wet. Wifies is felled, though he manages to trigger the crossbow on his way down; it sinks into Wato’s thigh, and Wato falls back onto the snow with a scream. The fox lifts the branch again, shaking, sleeves sliding down, and Wato’s focus comes in and out, but the fox is bludgeoning Wifies as best as he can. It's sickening, and Wato feels bile rise in their throat.

“Stop,” they cry out. “Stop!”

The fox stops, dropping the stick and looking at Wifies.

“I need to eat,” the fox says. “I have no pearl. I need to eat.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Wato is willing to believe that this is all some kind of horrible feverish nightmare as the fox drops down on his knees and begins to tear through Wifies. He digs into Wifies's back and rips him apart, blood scattering like snowflakes in the air and stringy muscle melting into powdery white. The sticky haze of pain from his leg, the dizzying realization of where his memories may have gone, being threatened by someone they thought was a friend, and now a fox plucking a human heart out and eating it like it’s an apple— it’s all too much. Wato tries to crawl away.

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” Wato says over and over again, because they need to say something to the sight of a— they think it's a kidney? They don't know, they're not familiar with internal organs. “You're eating him, what the fuck!”

“He has it,” the fox whispers between bites of viscera. “He has to have it. He likes trophies. Where is it?”

Through the fox’s scratching and digging around, he finds “it”, Wato guesses, because he makes a thrilled chittering noise and holds something small and round to the light.

“My pearl,” the fox says, opening his mouth and dropping the pearl in.

The strangest thing happens, though Wato isn't sure if it's the strangest thing to happen tonight. The fox straightens up and his face brightens. Wato hadn’t realized, but this whole time, the fox’s breath hadn’t been visible until now. It rises like steam off his face, and he shudders. He then continues to loot a dead body he just cannibalized.

Wato is still unsuccessfully trying to get the fuck away when the fox stands up and stalks over to them.

“I like you,” the fox says, like he’s trying to remind Wato’s muddled mind.

“You just killed a guy! A friend of mine!”

“He was going to put the mask on you,” the fox kneels and grabs Wato’s ankle. “Stop moving, I’m gonna get the arrow out.”

“I’m going to bleed out if you do that!”

“Nah.”

Nah? Nah?! What world is Wato in right now? The fox straddles their calf.

“Stop it,” Wato bares their teeth, trying to growl through the nausea.

“Wato!”

Wato snaps up to look at the fox, covered in gore, stained ears to tail in red and pink, and doesn’t know what to say or do or feel. The fox wipes a bloodied hand through the snow, then wipes it on the back of his own sweater, and then places a potion bottle in the snow next to Wato’s hand. Their suit is heavy with melted snow, clinging to their skin and numbing their senses.

“I need to get this out,” the fox says, bracing his newly “cleaned” hand on Wato’s thigh next to the arrow’s barrel. “And you’re going to drink that when I do.”

“Are you fucking delusio—”

The fox yanks the arrow out of Wato’s leg, and Wato chokes on their words and collapses onto their back. The arrow is tossed away and the fox swirls the potion in Wato’s sightline.

“Drink,” the fox insists, tipping it into their mouth.

Wato only struggles for a moment, until the taste of melon convinces them to swallow. It hits their system like a wave, the wound on their arm closing first, and then the pain in their joints disappearing next.

The fox stops about halfway through the potion. He puts it back in the snow and scrambles off and back to Wifies’s body. Wato sits up, panting, watching the fox take the Omz Mask in hand.

“Wait, wait,” Wato grabs the potion, their leg still bleeding. “What are you— you can’t take that!”

“I like you,” the fox says, taking a step back, then another. “But I don’t trust you.”

“Please, just— don’t go, explain to me what just happened?”

The fox hesitates, and Wato drinks the rest of the potion, finally able to stand up again as the arrow wound sews shut.

“No,” the fox decides, turning around and running.

“What the fuck,” Wato freezes.

Wifies’s body is here, but the fox killed him, so it’s— fuck. Wato curses and follows the fox. Even with the head start, the fox still has a bad leg and the tang of blood trails him like a ribbon. Wato only realizes where they’re heading for once the silhouette of the warehouse breaks through the treeline, the fox zig-zagging between trees and around the northernmost wall of the warehouse. He cuts around the front, and Wato hurries— they have no idea how to get into the warehouse if the fox locks the main entrance, and they don’t have anything to break in with right now.

Rounding the corner, Wato has to stop and catch their breath, because the fox is gone. Checking the warehouse door, it’s unlocked. Wato doesn’t want to go inside. What they want is for their inconvenient memory loss to be convenient for once, and forget whatever the hell just happened, and leave.

“Wato?”

Turning around, Ken stands behind them in a puffer jacket and beanie.

“Wato! Are you okay?” Ken rushes over and grabs Wato’s arms, inspecting them with an increasingly furrowed brow. “I haven’t heard from you in two weeks dude, what’s going on?”

Wato doesn’t know what to say. Their legs hurt, their lungs are filled with pins and needles, and their head can’t stop replaying the decay of their night.

“It’s a three dog night out here,” Ken mutters, shivering. “Can we go in?”

“You have no idea,” Wato replies. “And you will not fucking believe what’s happened to me.”

The sharpened smell of blood is gone, like the fox hadn’t cut through here at all, but Wato knows that can’t be true. The sky is still dark and the night still has legs and Wato has seen more than they know what to do with. It all presses against their mind.

They say the only thing they can think of.

“Ken, I think I’m in trouble. I need your help.”

[lou-struck]

Pancakes for Dinner

Izuku Midoriya x reader

~ For some people, moving about the kitchen is effortless. You are not dating one of those people, but you appreciate Izuku’s efforts.

Wc:1.1k

a/n: I wrote this for pancake day but ended up having other things to do.

You think these cold, late winter days are starting to last just a bit longer. 

The evening drive home from work that usually has you chasing the sunset is now much brighter, and as your vehicle pulls into your driveway, the sky is just beginning to darken with rich shades of purple, pink, and orange.

Taking a deep breath in, you inhale the savory scent of someone using their grill the smokiness makes your stomach rumble as it yearns for a home-cooked meal. Between Izuku's hectic patrol schedule and your unorthodox work schedule, you cannot remember the last time you took the time to make a nice meal.

You hunger for something made with love and not just convenience.

But have not the energy to make it happen.

Tiredly, you reach your front door. You are about to put your key in the lock, but then you notice that it has already been unlocked. 

Tiredly, your lips form a small, fond smile when you realize that Izuku had gotten home before you. Maybe the two of you could order food and finally catch up on that show you've been meaning to watch.

"I'm home."

The front door closes behind you as your call remains unanswered. There is a doughy smell in the air, and the clanging of pots and utensils can be heard down the narrow hallway where your kitchen is located.

"Zuku?" you call again, following the noise with light steps, your socks pressing into the fluffy carpet. Your boyfriend's unmistakable sign reaches your ears just as you peer through the fluorescent-lit doorway. 

To say the kitchen is a disaster is an understatement. A creamy batter is splattered all over the countertops, and the cabinets and mixing bowls are piled high in the sink. But in the middle of the disaster, Izuku stands determinedly, his strong shoulders hunched over the stovetop poking at a skillet with a rubber spatula in complete concentration mode. The flames coming from the burner are ridiculously high as they lick the side of the pan.

The Sugarman apron you got him for Christmas secured snugly around his trim waist, tied with a lopsided bow. You wait to get his attention until he is a bit farther away from the dangerously high flames. Next to the stove, there is a plate piled high with crumbly bits of what you assume to be his attempts at making crepes. Some pieces are golden brown and paper-thin, while others are slightly thicker.

His phone is propped up against the ceramic flour jar, and when you see what covers the screen, your heart overflows with affection. It's the crepe video you sent him earlier while scrolling on your lunch break. You thought the recipe looked amazing and wanted to save it for later. 

But Izuku Midoriya, aka Mr. Acts of Service Is My Love Language, must've thought that you were craving them tonight.

"Izuku?" you call again. You voice much louder when he is out of arm's reach of the stove. You don't need to see his face to know that he is disappointed in how his crepes turned out as the one falls apart onto the plate. 

This time, the green-haired man turns with a bit of a jump in your direction. A bit of an embarrassed flush on his freckled cheeks as he runs his hand through his hair. 

"Y/n!" he smiles, glancing down at the mess. "You're home early today."

You walk in and lean in for a kiss. "Nope, right on time today." you hum playfully as he leans in for the kiss. Subtly, you reach behind him and turn the stove off, the flames dying quickly as you deny them of their fuel. Without the potential fire hazard, you shut your eyes and give his lips the full attention they deserve.

"Sorry about the mess," he murmurs against your lips. "I promise I'll clean it up when I am done.

You nod thoughtfully, knowing that he will. Izuku may be a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking, but he would never destroy the kitchen and leave you to pick up the pieces. "What are you up to here?" you tease, wetting your thumb with your tongue and wiping a bit of pancake batter that has somehow splattered onto his forehead.

"I- uhh." the tips of his ears turn pink as he looks sheepishly at the splatter marks on the cabinets. "I saw that video you sent me and wanted to surprise you by making some for you when you got home. I followed every step of the recipe, but making them was a lot harder than I thought it would be. As for the batter, I was a bit too strong when I was stirring everything together and it kinda went...everywhere."

You notice the way he awkwardly scans the room. But when he notices the plate from what he considers failed attempts out on the counter, he steps subtly to the side, trying to shield it with his body. But in truth, they may not look like the ones in the video, but they still look edible. 

"They really don't look bad," you say honestly. "This was your first time making them, so of course they wouldn't turn out perfect. 

"They are just broken little pieces," he mumbles more to himself than to you. His hand cupping his chin as he gets lost in his reflections. "Maybe I should've used a different pan or used oil instead of butter. The recipe only called for flour, but since they are breaking apart, I should've accounted for some sort of binding agent like yeast. Do they even use yeast in pancakes? I really tried to make them according to the recipe, but no matter what I did, they just kept tearing apart."

As he murmurs to himself, you reach over and pinch off a piece of one of the crepes to try. It tastes nice. The pieces are fully cooked, and the taste isn't too sweet at all. Overall, it's a solid first attempt. They were made with love, and that's all that matters.

"A-are they bad?" he asks, his eyes inspecting your face carefully as he waits to see your reaction. 

Leaning in, you place a soft kiss on his cheek, a simple act of reassurance that never fails to make your heart flutter. "Don't worry, they're perfect."

~

A bit later, the two of you find yourselves curled up on the couch, finally catching up on your show. In your laps are two bowls filled to the brim with scraps of crepes and toppings as you eat them with spoons.

Enjoying the sweet, sweet taste of breakfast for dinner.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[flyingwargle]

the msby black jackals are gathered in the cafeteria for lunch, crowded around two party trays of onigiri, courtesy of onigiri miya. hinata is showing a tiktok to bokuto on his phone, miya is chatting with meian about new attack formations, and sakusa listens while nibbling on his onigiri. inunaki sits with adriah, fingers sticky with rice and bits of seaweed, flakes of tuna on the table.

"i can't wait for the holiday break," adriah is telling him. "there's a beach in hawaii that's calling my name."

"really? is it that nice?"

"the best. you have to drive a fair bit away to go to the quieter beaches, but it's worth it. my family and i went every winter; my parents want to retire there, but they say the process is too complicated, being canadian and whatnot."

"yeah, it sounds like one of those destinations that everyone would want to retire to." inunaki grabs another onigiri and takes a bite. "what's the food like?"

"it's pretty good! they have something called poké, which is similar to a chirashi don, but with more vegetables. i miss loco moco too, i haven't been able to find anything like it here." adriah examines his onigiri. "there's something close to onigiri too, the spam musubi."

"musubi?" inunaki echoes. "same as msby?"

adriah shakes his head. "they sound the same but spelled differently. it's spam, rice, egg, and seaweed wrapped altogether, like an onigiri."

"what about spam?" barnes leans in.

"spam musubi. have you had it before?"

"oh, yes, just once, when i went to a hawaiian restaurant with the kids. it isn't too dissimilar from an onigiri, now that i think about it."

meian joins them, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "we got our own msby musubi right here."

the three youngest athletes look up, sakusa pretending to ignore them. inunaki blinks, lips curling into a grin. "oh my god, you're right. look - rice." he gestures at bokuto. "spam." he points at hinata. "egg and seaweed." the last two are directed at miya and sakusa.

"it's the hair," adriah guffaws. "and their shirts! was this planned?"

"are we being compared to food?" hinata asks, puzzled.

"here, look, look." inunaki brings up a picture of spam musubi on his phone and shows it to him, the others peering over him. bokuto looks around, miya's eyes widening with realization. sakusa remains unfazed. "it's true, right?"

"we gotta pose like this," miya declares. "we have to see who's more like a musubi - us, or that."

adriah raises an eyebrow. "unless you somehow become edible, i don't think you're going to beat out a literal food item."

"it's wordplay, man! musubi and msby! wouldn't it be funny?"

meian cracks a smile. "i think it's a rather harmless reference, so i'll approve of it."

miya stuffs the rest of his onigiri in his mouth and wipes his hands clean. "all right! bokkun, you're rice so you're at the bottom, then it'll be me and then shoyo. omi, you'll-"

"no."

"you're laying on top of us! you're practically doin' nothin'!"

"i think it's ridiculous and i'd rather spend the rest of my lunch in peace."

inunaki snorts. "there has never been a moment of peace on this team, ever."

"it'd be good to post on the team's social media," barnes reasons. "we haven't posted anything since the last highlights video last month."

"that is true," meian acknowledges. "we have one of the smallest followings, compared to the other v. league teams. this could help boost our numbers."

"maybe because most of our fans follow us individually instead as a whole," adriah points out.

hinata jumps to his feet. "let's do it! we'll get a yoga mat and everything to be safe! come on, omi-san!"

it takes a bit more wheedling to persuade their most prickly teammate to join in, but he eventually relents after miya promises him a week’s supply of umeboshi onigiri from his brother’s place. with his mask looped around his ears again, they head into the gym, where hinata drags a mat from the equipment storage. bokuto flops onto it, rolling onto his side. “like this?”

“me next!” miya balances his weight over him, barnes and adriah on the sidelines with their arms out as spotters. once he’s comfortable, hinata approaches. “aw heck, i don’t think this is gonna be a good idea–“

“i’m on top!” hinata presses his chest on top of miya, who immediately groans beneath his weight. he starts to lose his balance at bokuto’s laughter. “why are you guys so heavy?”

“maybe because we’re professional athletes,” sakusa deadpans, arms folded across his chest, unamused. when the three are balanced, he steps behind them, brow furrowing. “what am i supposed to do?”

“you’re the seaweed, so like…” inunaki shows him the picture for reference. “just…lie on top of hinata vertically?”

sakusa makes a face, then twists his body in a few different directions before settling on his back against hinata’s, draping himself down the middle of the stack, shirt sliding down from his stomach. “happy?” he grouses, glaring at his teammates while upside-down.

inunaki, now on a knee with his phone out to take a picture, is doing his best to hold back his laughter. “wait, wait, put your arms over your head. there’s still a bit of rice – i mean, bokuto – still uncovered.”

he obliges, and inunaki snaps a few pictures. adriah is crouched beside him, mouth wide open. “holy shit, they really do look like spam musubi.”

“instead of going for drinks, we should stay in and make spam musubi on friday,” barnes suggests. “it’ll be a fun teambuilding activity, too.”

meian nods. “i agree. the supermarket close to the gym should sell spam.”

“are ya’ll done?” miya complains. “i’m getting squashed!”

they peel off, one at a time, and then crowd around inunaki, who is uploading the post on their social media. “there.” he hits post. “we should capitalize on this, somehow. you think your brother would be open for a collab, miya?”

“maybe? musubi is kinda similar to onigiri, but you’ll hafta talk with him.” miya takes his phone out with a contemplative rub of his chin. “you’re on the right track, though. maybe there’s more we can do with this…

msby black jackals @/msby.official · just now who does it better: spam musubi, or msby musubi? tell us in the replies!

[alt text: bokuto = rice, miya = egg, hinata = spam all stacked together + sakusa = seaweed wrapping around them. they make a snack, don’t you think?]

--

inspiration: fanart of the msby4 stacked as a musubi <3

[delqcate]

-–— STEAMING MUGS : FLUFFTOBER DAY 4

first time writing for conrad 🫶 i don't have much to say but i just wanna mention i'll be busy this week and next week because i have lots of tests, but i'll probably still be able to post in time. also please don't be afraid to comment or send me any feedback for my writing, i appreciate all the reblogs and reblog comments too mwah | flufftober | navigation

summary: waves crashing, kettles hissing, and taylor swift. there's no better sound than these things. (this is such a bad summary💀)

warnings/cw: no y/n, belly's sister, maybe some canon breaking???

word count: 0.7 k

paring: conrad fisher x you

Laughter filled the air as you and Conrad started running towards the snowing beach, a sight you never got to see until he could finally start driving.

You and Conrad had been testing the waters lately, making sure the both of you wanted this before committing to anything. Ever since the events of last year went down, everyone's emotions were scattered, and both of you knew better than to jump into something serious at a time like that.

"I win!" He laughs breathlessly, placing his hands on his knees in a slightly bent position. He looks at you with that wide smile you adore.

"No fair! Your legs are longer!" You whine back, you've forgotten how tiring the trip from the beach house to the beach was at times, and it seemed even harder in the winter.

"Oh, shut up. C'mere." He takes your hand and pulls out his phone. He stands behind you and wraps an arm around you as he plants a kiss on your cheek, taking the photo. You look down at the photo, laughing softly. Both your cheeks were red from the cold and a smile that wouldn't wipe off.

An idea pops into your head and you take his phone, playing the perfect song for something that was a weird sight for you but oh, so, fucking beautiful. You look back at him with a cheeky smile and hand him the phone. "Still remember the dance for the debutante ball?"

He shakes his head, his smile forming into a grin. That night was one of the worst of his life, but also one of the best. "How could I forget? You stepped on my feet all the time during practice." He takes position with you as you shake your head, a wider smile on your face.

"That was not my fault, you couldn't stay away from me." You sigh as the both of you start to dance, the only thing that fills the air is the waves softly crashing and the slightly muffled music.

"As much as I loved that, it was fucking freezing." He slips his coat off, helping you take off yours before turning on the fireplace to help the both of you keep warm. You head over to your bag and pull out two packs of hot chocolate. The summer house was always cleaned out before everyone left, so there was little to no food at all in the pantry or fridge.

You set the water to a boil and as soon as it starts to hiss, you pour the water into the mugs, mixing it and watching as the water turns into a comforting mix of chocolate and marshmallows. Conrad comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist as his lips start to leave light kisses on your cheek. A laugh escapes your lips and you sigh, nothing felt better than this.

"Let's warm-up, you're freezing." He mumbles into your neck before slowly pulling away, taking the steaming mugs from the counter, and bringing them over to the living room. You take a seat on the floor and stare at the fireplace. "You sure this isn't just an excuse to cuddle?"

You press your legs against your chest and look over at him as he sits down beside you, shaking his head and taking a careful sip of his hot chocolate. "Nuh-uh. If I wanted to cuddle, you'd be willing to anyway." He smirks as you roll your eyes and lay on his shoulder.

"Mom would kill me if she found out I snuck out. Thankfully Belly promised to keep it a secret if I brought her a souvenir." He lets out a laugh and lays his head on yours, taking your hand and placing it on the warm mug. You watch as the steam escapes, the warmth of the mug and his hand, plus the fireplace is enough to keep you warm.

"I love you, you know that?" He mumbles out, not wanting to ruin the moment. You nod once and let his free hand cup your face, tilting your head to let your forehead meet his. "I mean it. Prettiest girl in all of Cousins. Actually, scratch that, the entire world." You let out a soft chuckle and lean in, both your lips meet and let the kiss escalate into something bigger.

[dark-side-blog3]

Ignore that this Home Alone inspired poly adeuce fic is a month late. Or choose to read it for 2024 Christmas, up to you.

I had a lot of fun writing this! Put it into a word counter just for fun, and I'm surprised to see that my first real WIP I finished in 2024 is 3k long! It was just so fun to imagine a twist one of my favourite Christmas movies, and I got so caught up in the fun of it I didn't make my deadline ^^; It was originally meant to be a short little crackfic, but it was just too fun! There are some cracky, campy elements, but that's just in the spirit of the movie I based it off!

Anyways: MDNI, warnings for standard yandere things, and creepy crawlies.

++++++++++++++++++++++

"Shouldn't we be pouring salt on the pathway?"

"Nah," you smile, splashing another bucket of water on the front steps. "This is so we can have a nice slip-and-slide for tobogganing tomorrow, Grim! Same reason I'm filling up a little ice rink in the back-- I wanna do some skating. I can't wait for it to freeze over and teach you how!"

Grims' head shakes fervently as he beams; "Just you wait! I'll show you the grace and speed of a master figure skater! I'm gonna be teaching YOU how to skate by the time we're done!"

"Well if you wanna do that, you're gonna need to be well rested. Can you grab us some cookies for before-bed snacks?" you encourage, the monster agreeing and scampering off inside the dorm house to pilfer the cupboard.

You continue pouring water on the steps and trudge around the house's perimeter to check on the steps leading outside to make sure they're freezing over like you intended. You have several other home security measures to check over...

Most of the staff, and students for that matter, went home for the holidays. Family to see, vacations to take... A life to live outside of the school and other people in it. Should anything happen, Crowley was unfortunately unavailable (what else is new, the old bastard), nor was Vargas, Trein, or Crewl. Normally they'd be spattered throughout the holiday to watch over the students. But there are other teachers on the premises, and hardly any students who can't return home for whatever reason, and they let it slip by... One night during the whole winter break when none of your trusted faculty members nor any of your more powerful friends like Malleus or Idia could help if you got into trouble.

And maybe, maybe your brain has been rotted by movies and defending yourself from overblotted students.

But it's better safe than sorry.

With everything seemingly in order, and the sun setting quickly behind the treeline of school woods, you rush over to the front gate to hang a large sign:

NO SOLICITORS

Hopefully, this will deter anyone planning to intrude on you tonight.

You trudge your way back to the front door, carefully avoiding the steps. You spend the next few hours snacking with Grim while watching movies together, playing card games, and chattering about what ifs and would you rather... Before too long, it's time for bed, and Grim is out like a light, thanks to several pounds of turkey stuffing, potatoes, and cookies you still had after the holiday party days ago.

The party was fun... It did leave you with more leftovers you knew what to do with, which is always great. You got to wish Rook Joyeuses Fête, decorate cookies with Jack and Jade (the merman being much better at decorating, likely due to working in the lounge), and say goodbye to everyone dear to you before they left for their own plans... But it also had Ace and Deuce.

Which, on the one hand, they're harmless. You know they are. They're just jerks sometimes.

They should be focusing on their studies, and you had to devote your time to keeping Ramshakle clean, and Grim on task to graduate... The little monster became somewhat of a family member. Surrogate son or little brother you're not entirely sure, but you want him to succeed.

And even if the pair of heartslabyul boys were gifted students that excelled at every course with time to spare, Grim wasn't-- Grim needed your help to study, to get to class, to handle some of his projects for him when his paws would cause accidents in the potion lab. Grim needs your help to get through college, and it keeps you way too busy for a relationship with either guy.

And even though they soured the mood of the party right after you told them as such, it's the truth, and that's what it is. You're not going to jeopardize Grim's future just to date college students.

They acted like jerks for the rest of the winter break.

When everyone was opening presents, they bitched at everyone for the gifts they exchanged, teased relentlessly, knocked over decor, and told each classmate going through the magic mirror over the week to 'take their time coming back, if at all'. Poor Idia had an anxiety attack when they started teasing him; it took you half an hour to calm him down enough to stop puking and stick to just dry heaving. Grim scampered off after Idia fainted a second time... It took another hour after that to help him through the magic mirror, with his robot escorts. You would have walked through with him, but he insisted holding your hand as he left would be enough, only dragging you somewhat through the portal.

It was rubbing you the wrong way how they were picking fights with everyone, and snubbing Grim anytime they saw you and the monster around campus.

Suddenly, the front gates screech open, drawing you out of your thoughts. You peek out the sliver of the window from behind the thick curtain in the bedroom to see two figures shuffle through the snow.

It can't be them. Even if you were just thinking of them, that would be too... Convenient. Like some movie logic. Thinking of people doesn't summon them.

Whoever it is will be getting a nasty surprise in three, two, one--

A muffled thud and string of curses can be heard from the other side of the glass. You sneak your way down the stairs so you can at least see who's at the door.

"Son of a--! Grim!" Deuce shouts. So much for not summoning them.

"Open the door, little buddy! We know that you're in there and that you're all alone... Your precious prefect is spending the last night of the winter break with someone else, right?" Ace yells, quickly being joined by a snickering and rapping at the door.

A shadow presses itself against the window, trying to peer through sheer curtains. You duck behind one of the striped couches on the outside of the room, close to the walls. Through the reflection of the glass cabinet, you can see the figure stay and linger at the window, tapping against the glass with a small can.

"Come on Grim. We've got tuna for ya if you just open the door and have a chat..." Deuce says, cupping his hands around his mouth as he yells through the glass.

His shadow straightens up, before pounding back on the glass, rattling the old pane against the tight frame, the narrow strips of wood being tight enough together that neither of them could just force their way through the window; Even if they shattered all the glass.

Which Deuce just might, slamming himself into the frame as hard as he could.

"I saw you move in there! Don't ignore us!" He shatters a pane, shoving his hand through to grab at the sheer curtains and tug, ripping them.

You duck back behind the couch, scanning for tools to protect yourself. Shut up. Don't be stupid, just think. Think quick, and smart.

The banging stops for a second. Before becoming far louder-- powerful enough to feel the floor shake. Metal creaks against its hinges, and the lock crashes into the strike plate of the door.

Ignore that, focus. Cleaning supplies. Always nearby, the dorm is filthy. Dish soap and mop bucket.

You dart out from behind the couch to grab the bottle of dish soap, grabbing it and rolling up against the wall just in time as the banging stops, the door knob jiggles and a thin wire pokes itself out from the cracks between the door frame. It makes quick work of the locks on the door, before opening, and Ace proudly struts into the room. The second he does, you pop the cap and squeeze the bottle, squirting bright blue goop into his eyes and smarmy mouth! And you splurt the floor for good measure!

You sprint back to behind the couch he pulls back, sputtering, and wiping it from his eyes in thick globs. You watch through the reflection of the cabinet as Deuce shoves his way past Ace as he splatters fistfuls of goop onto the floor, next to the bottle of leaking dish soap. Ace shoves Deuce for the push, and the resulting shove has both of them slipping on the puddle of dish soap you left in your hurry.

"Ahg-- Ace?! Why are you on the floor?"

A visibly wet smack as dish soap arches off Ace's gloves, slapping damply right into Deuce's face as he grunts from under his classmate: "Get off me, you buffoon! Go find the cat-- Grim, I'm gonna skin you for this, you little creep!"

"Don't make threats until after we have the little rat, runt. If he goes tattling we're screwed--"

"There's no one to tattle to! He's all alone in this big house! Even the ghosts aren't here! If we stick his claws in an electrical socket or force-feed him motor oil, no one would think anything of it! He's just a dumb animal that killed himself without supervision!"

Something glints from under the couch. You grasp at it, finding a spare ornament, and an unused ziptie, threaded through the top. There's got to be something you can use to create a bigger distraction and get you and Grim out of here.

There has to be something in reach-- going back to the bucket in plain sight of them is too risky. Shoving your hand under the couch, your clutch the first thing that your grasp: An aerosol room freshener. Score.

Wrapping the ziptie around the spray trigger, you tighten it and roll it over to the boys, still scrambling about on the floor. You watch from the reflection in the cabinet as Deuce gets a heavy spray right in the eyes, hollering in pain!

"AUGH-- Fucker! You think you're so smart, punk?! Your little bomb just gave away your position!" Deuce shouts, whipping out his magic pen, covering his eyes.

You feel a sense of dread. Primal instinct. You leap out from behind the couch just as he summons a caldron to crash into the couch, narrowly missing you as it smashes the solid oak to splinters. Splinters stick to your socks, embedding in your feet as you scamper off to another room, streams of water and gusts of wind being shot after you.

Just as you turn the corner to climb up the stairs and rush to Grim's room, you hear Ace curse exasperatedly, stumbling his way to the end of the hall to stare at you, still wiping his eyes on his sleeves. Another string of sighed curses leaves his lips as he watches you scramble up the stairs, making accidental eye-contact.

They know their plans are botched now.

Gotta climb faster.

On all fours, you claw up the stairs, just as a tug on your ankle forces your jaw to slam into them. Casting a glance backwards, Ace has gripped your ankle with his sticky gloves, grinning madly as you struggle to tug your ankle away from him, and try to dodge the other one of his hands trying to grasp for your other leg, only to end up sloppily groping your ass before trying again. You try to shake and kick him off, getting a hits to the side of his head, but not as effective as if you had room to wind up. He's gripping so hard it feels like he's going to break something. You scramble, shifting your weight side to side to get him off, prying yourself off the stairs and scratching your nails into the old wood. Your nails cling to the baseboard, prying the edge as much as you can, the wood creaking and snapping off with each desperate tug to pull yourself up.

The baseboard snaps, and you find yourself with a small wooden shiv, thinking to whip around and stab it into Ace's hand, leading him to retract for a second long enough for you to scramble up a step again-- before being slammed back down into the wood as you're grabbed again.

A girthy, irrate red centipede wiggles its way out from the hole in the baseboard, defensive of the now-ruined home.

You snatch it up, close to the head and the snapping mandibles as it wriggled and writhed, as you slowly reached back around to Ace, still clinging to your legs as you tried to shake him off. The teen was so focused on keeping you still as he pulled some ducttape off the roll with his teeth, that he didn't see the massive, snakelike body of the centipede until it was too late; And you stick it right on his face.

He seemed to freeze, giving you enough time to tug your leg again, just as he screamed an ear-piecing shriek!

Ace pawed at his face squirming violently on the stairs, thumping loudly on each step back to the bottom as you sprinted your way upstairs, into Grims room, slamming and locking the door behind you!

"What the hell is wrong--"

"PSYCHO PREFECT IS WHAT! Is it in my hair? Fucking thing was thick as a finger, and they put it right on my face! Is it in my hair?!"

"The prefect is home?! Dude! We're so screwed!"

"So go up there and get them, dipshit! Why are you standing still when they're up there getting a fucking bear trap or something ready?! Are you having an aneurysm or something?! Why are you just staring at me like that?!"

"...Ace... Don't... Move."

"Deuce... What are you talking about? Go get them-"

"Don't. Move."

"Deuce..?"

The telltale crash of a cast iron cauldron smashing through your rotten wood floors makes you nearly shit yourself, glancing back at a sleep-stirring Grim.

"DID I GET IT?"

"YOU ALMOST CRUSHED MY SKULL YOU NUTCASE!"

"DID I GET IT?!"

"You fucking moron!"

You snatch Grim up, using the blanket he was sleeping with like a hobo bag to hold him in, and open the window, edging your way carefully onto the roof. If you can just make safely to the other side of Ramshackle, you can try scaling down the ivy. And it will at least give you a head start-- Maybe hiding out in Sams is the best idea. A store owner must have a CCTV, right? And if Ace and Deuce try and kill either of you, then even if something happens to you, they'll get caught...

You wrap the corners of Grims blanket around your shoulders, like a makeshift baby pouch. You can definitely feel him squirming on your back, starting to wake up. You let go of the window, slipping down the rough roof tile. Laying on your stomach, you side-shuffle over, staying as low to the roof as you can to get the most traction. The edge nearly takes you by surprise when your foot doesn't connect with length that's not there. Slowly, you shuffle even closer to the edge, swaying your arm around the edge to find the vines of Ivy.

"I FOUND 'EM, ACE!"

Your head whips around to see Deuce leaning as far as he can out of the window before he scrambles to get onto the roof.

Whipping your head back to focus, you grab a fistful of vines and pull the rest of your body off the roof! You snatch another fistful with your other hand as you fall.

And fall all the way down, watching in horror as the ivy peels itself from the brick walls.

You feel Grim claw his way out of the pouch and onto your face just in time, as you land on your back with a sickening crunch.

"Oh shit," Ace comments, seemingly having been waiting for you at the bottom of the wall. You see Grim flee across the yard out of the corner of your eye, unable to lift your head.

The sound of snow crunching underfoot, and Deuce panting like crazy soon joins Ace in staring at you as you lay helpless on the ground. As soon as he arrives he gets asked: "Are we gonna get Grim?"

"No point, really..." Comes the huffed response; "We were gonna get him to fuck off, and he's fucked right off. Tonight didn't really go to plan anyway."

A boot gently kicks at your side as Ace turns his attention back to you: "Are you paralyzed or something? That was quite the fall."

You open your mouth to speak, but only a cracked whine makes it out. You cringe and try again, but nothing intelligible comes out.

"Holy shit, they're brain-damaged!" Ace grins, laughing as he backs away from you.

You feel Deuce tugging at your legs in the snow, dragging you from your shallow ditch in the snow. He begins tugging you closer to the dorm, before he drops your legs, moving to grab you under your arms and haul you that way, up against a wall. Breaking a window, he shoves you in, head first. The cold floors of Ramshackle are still warmer than the ice and snow.

"Alright. Hey, real quick, can you feel this?" Deuce begins poking you with a wire from an ornament, starting with your legs, and making his way up on both sides. You nod, wincing at some particularly sharp pricks, to which Deuce responds by rubbing the area to dull the pain.

"Can you say where you are right now? Do you know who I am? Who you are?" You nod again, voice stumbling through a pained response.

"Awesome. You're not brain-damaged! You're probably just winded from the fall. Is anything broken? Can you wiggle your fingers and toes? Try twisting side to side. If you can't it means your spine might be broken, and you need a doctor."

You comply, weirded out by the sudden care, but the doctor comment means they will call someone. And that someone will keep you safe, and them away. The pain's already fading, and likely nothing serious, but you could trick them... Deuce particularly seems like a soft touch. You wince as you try to twist, feigning inability.

Deuce makes a worried expression, like he's about to piss himself from fear.

He backs off slightly, giving you a bit more breathing room: "Try crossing your arms and lifting them as far away from your ribs as you can".

You comply again, feigning difficulty,

And duct tape wraps around your wrists instantly. Deuce presses his knee down into your chest to pin you down as he wraps as tightly as he can, while Ace ties your legs from outside.

"This really, really isn't my style. But we've got to get you somewhere that is not here when the teachers come back tomorrow, and we can't have Grim knowing where to find you." Deuce rambles, soaking his glove in a bottle of something, before pressing it to your face. He continues rambling, leaning in closer to whisper: "And I know how this looks! But I promise we won't do anything to you while you sleep. Or when you wake up! I swear! It's all more normal than it seems tonight-- or it can be anyways. And... And if you give me some time, give me a chance, we can even ditch Ace and forget this night ever happened! You just need some time somewhere else..."

The room spins with dark spots as Deuce presses his soaked glove further into your face. He continues rambling at you, while you feel Ace begin dragging you back out the window again. The snow doesn't feel cold this time as you fall into it. It just feels soft.

[traumxrei-archive]

Suddenly getting emotional thinking about Jamil and how his life was chosen for him when he was born. If he would take the chance to leave his position if he could- if he'd feel lost with his newfound freedom or resentment at all his skills that, while he's great at them, were gained because he served Kalim.

I wonder how it is that others can't notice Jamil, how others can see him as just Kalim's shadow, how anyone can say, "Just have Jamil do it." And then there's you, who will look past Kalim to look for Jamil. You, who can ignore Kalim unintentionally because your staring at and daydreaming about Jamil. When you ask something of Jamil, you're not asking because it's his duty as a servant or tossing him some task while not caring if he can do it or not- we ask specifically for him because we know he can do it.

And trying to imagine how Jamil would be able to see the difference. How he'd be used to not really being seen- the name Jamil is not an individual, just the name for a faceless, identity-less thing in the background who's supposed to live for others. How he is confused when you show up at the dorm and brush off Kalim's friendly advances because you came specifically for Jamil. How you invite him to be on the other social side that he's always served- "Jamil, you haven't eaten yet, come join us!", "Jamil, you keep doing homework, I can go get that for Kalim", "Leave it for someone else to clean up, we weren't the ones responsible in the first place."

How those sitting with Kalim don't even register that he's in the room, but when it's you, your whole face lights up when you spot him. How you can't look away from his face until you've given him a smile that's brimming with your love for him. And how foreign this feels to Jamil, but maybe he doesn't hate it.

(Aka how I hadn't fully understood how Jamil felt because I acknowledged him as an individual from the start and didn't think properly about how he's typically seen as just an object in the Al-Asim household)

anon.............anon you should open a writing blog. like. i am at a loss. because you put into words the inexplicable sadness that i feel about jamil... this is so perfect that i don't think i'll be able to add much onto it, but i'll try anyway. maybe we'll take jamil's perspective, since you wrote so in depth about the prefect's perspective....

of course, your existence kind of greatly irritated jamil—at first. especially after you ruined his perfect plan to take over scarabia....but that doesn't matter now. now, he's perplexed.

he thought that you would avoid him like the plague, especially after all that he subjected you to during winter break. but instead, he started noticing you. it did help that you had a literal flaming cat next to you at all times, but he started seeing you a whole lot more.

and he felt like you were seeing him.

usually, he would wait on the side in busy hallways as kalim chattered happily with his classmates, waiting to deliver him to his next class. but he found that he was the one being sought out by you. which was weird, everyone had always wanted to talk to kalim, not him. but there you were, asking him mundane questions like how did he make that potion so easily? (practice, he answered.) what did he have for lunch? (kalim's favorite shawarmas. no, he didn't have extras.)

and he wouldn't be lying if he wasn't waiting for a certain question. one where you would ask him for a favor of some sort, and where he would have to don a mask and agree to whatever they wanted but... that question never came. he heard grim hollering for you, and just like that you were gone. huh. now that was new.

jamil noticed it happening more and more as time went by, especially as your visits to the scarabia dorm increased. at first he thought you visited solely for the food. which would mean more work for him. but he found that you weren't with kalim most of the time. rather you were rejecting kalim's proposals for holding feasts quite effectively.

instead you came to him, sometimes for a quick chat, sometimes you'd ask if he needed help. (he would always say no, the response trained into him for years upon years) but you would insist anyway, and he always found a small smile on his face whenever he was faced with your antics. (of course, he tried hard to make sure to hide those smiles behind a carefully placed hand)

jamil didn't really know when "resenting you" became "tolerating you" and he was even more clueless on how that feeling had evolved into "being fond of you".

maybe it was the time where you pushed him right past a messy-looking scarabia lounge, claiming that it wasn't his mess to clean up. or maybe it was one of the times where he was about to bunk basketball practice because kalim had called, and you said you could could meet kalim on his behalf. or maybe the time you pulled him into the school kitchens to show off lopsided-looking vada pavs that you made from one of the cookbooks he lent you.

maybe it was all the little things.

but around you, he didn't feel like "jamil viper, firstborn of the viper family" or "jamil viper, attendant to kalim al asim". no, he felt like "just jamil viper".

and maybe that's why jamil doesn't stop it when he felt that fondness turning into something brighter and more explosive. maybe that was why he started going to you— sitting next to you in your shared classes, bringing you snacks he made during lunch, or even visiting ramshackle. he found that he couldn't get enough of spending time with you. and jamil found that he didn't hate that.

(though jamil never said it outloud, you could see it in the way his eyes sparkled when he was with you, as cliche as it sounded. though his expressions remained schooled, there was something there that told you that jamil viper really, truly cared about you.)

n e ways, that's it for me. i hope you enjoyed reading my addition anon,,,,even though idk if you'll even see this since it's been so long. but i thoroughly enjoyed that sudden jamil brainrot ^^

[annaphoenix1994]

Dutton Christmas - 1

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

Kiera awoke with eager intent, the glow from the Christmas tree she and Simon put up in her living room a couple of days prior to the holiday. It was a small tree as the holiday will be spent in the main lodge with her parents and the rest of her family as it was a tradition.

She was excited for Simon to experience his first true Christmas with her, knowing that he had never celebrated it since he was a child. His past was very vague to her, leaving wonder to fill in the gaps as to what happened. By what she gathered, Simon had an abusive father, and his mother and brother passed away, leaving him with no family aside from her and Task Force 141.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, she snuck out of the bed and took her phone with her, leaning over to announce her dismissal from Simon's stubborn slumber. "I'll be right back, babe, I have to go to the bathroom."

He kept his eyes closed as he mumbled, "Okay, love. I'll be here."

She giggled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as she stood to her feet with more "pep in her step" as she began to feel better with each passing day, her motor functions improving with Simon's encouragement of walking a few extra steps a day and keeping a regular routine of taking her prescribed medication and keeping the area around her skin grafts clean, with Simon's help of course as they had to be rinsed with warm water.

Instead of going to the bathroom, she walked through the house and out onto the patio, facing the piercing cold wind as the Wyoming morning was brutal in the winter, even the fall. Opening the text messages of her phone, she saw the text message she had been waiting for.

She had spent too much time outside, taking a much-needed drag from her vape that Simon kept from her, unaware that he had been standing in the doorway of the patio observing her action. Who is she talking to? Is it someone else?

He frowned at the thought, wondering who else it could be that caused her to smile like she would when they were together. With a ping of anger and jealousy swarming his chest, he returned to the bedroom as if he saw nothing. He looked up at the ceiling, mentally preparing himself for the heartbreak that was soon to follow at the news of someone else making her happy other than himself.

She returned to the bedroom, frowning as his posture told her that he had caught her. "Thought you went to the bathroom." He accused.

"I did," She replied. "I just had to make a call-"

"To who?"

She huffed, knowing he had been watching her, being observant of her surroundings herself, she changed the contact name and contact photo before returning to the house for when she would prove herself to his assumptions.

She felt him tense as she sat on the bed, not daring to reach for his hand as she knew he'd jerk it away as his stare was prominent and angry as he didn't break his gaze from the ceiling. "Do you really want to know?"

He sighed heavily, anger causing his breathing to sound jagged as he exhaled from his lungs. Can't even get excited for a holiday because I'm being cheated on, he thought. "Yeah, I do."

"I'm surprising my dad. I've been talking to my uncle to come to visit us from New York for Christmas. He hasn't seen him in years," She explained. "I'm picking him up from the airport at eleven."

He didn't believe her.

"Okay."

"Simon," She sighed, his name rolling from her tongue so naturally. "Why're you so upset about it?"

"Why would you have to sneak around me to text your "uncle?" He accused, side-eyeing her as he said it.

She rolled her eyes, opening her phone to her text messages and setting her phone on his chest, "Read for yourself."

He sighed, taking the phone and holding it in front of his face, reading the brief texting conversation between the two. Maybe she's not lying, he thought, but with many years of understanding betrayal, he couldn't be so sure without further questioning. "Okay."

"Simon," She sighed. "Look at me."

He didn't want to, but he did anyway.

"I know you're thinking the worst."

"I'm not."

"Bullshit," She scoffed. "Go through it. Go through all of my messages if you don't believe me."

"I believe you."

"Your eyes don't say so."

"Don't know what you're talking about." He grumbled.

He glanced at her as he heard her giggle. What's so fucking funny?

"Are you coming with me to the airport or not?"

"Wouldn't want to interrupt your time with your uncle," He huffed, rolling his eyes subtly. "Even though you shouldn't be driving."

"Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the fucking world," She scoffed, getting up from the bed and walking around to the wardrobe. "I'll even dress like a hermit since you think I'm cheating on you."

"Might as well dress nice." He scoffed.

"Stop it. I'm not sneaking behind you to talk to someone else-"

"Then why are you sneaking in the first place?"

"Maybe because it's Christmas and I don't want you to see the gifts I got you?" She scoffed.

Gifts?

"You haven't gone anywhere that I haven't been with you unless you've been sneaking out at night."

"Online ordering, babe," She shook her head, slipping on one of his jackets that she "borrowed" from him.

He loved seeing her wear his shirts and jackets - knowing that a part of him could be on her at all times. "They ship to the lodge, and I go and get them."

"If you say so."

She knew he was pouting and found amusement in it. "Are you going with me or not?"

"I'll be here when you get back. Just let me know if I need to sleep in the other room." He grumbled.

She scoffed, spitting out the last of her mouthwash after combing out the tangles in her post-sleep hair as she walked back into the bedroom, smirking as she straddled him as he lay on his back, his hands immediately going to rest on her knees, finding it so fucking hard to not imagine her baring herself on top of him. Fuckin' hell, he breathed to himself, desperately fighting the temptation of wanting to fuck her blind for cheating on him, wanting to reclaim his territory.

If he only knew...

She placed her palms against his clothed chest, feeling his heavy heartbeat, knowing he was fighting his own temptation.

She was, too.

Especially the subtle growth of his erection desperate to press into her thigh.

"I'll be back," She whispered, leaning down to press her lips to his chin. "You sure you don't want to go with me? My uncle is a hoot."

"I'll meet him when he gets here," He grumbled, his fingers flexing against the leggings that hugged her legs, contemplating on if he wanted to slide them off or cut them off, the heat from her core radiating onto him.

He knew she was wet.

"Suit yourself," She smirked. "I'll be back. I love you."

He didn't want to say it back due to his own assumption of her cheating, but he knew that possibly it was a lie.

"I love you too."

She smiled, rewarding him with a kiss before forcing herself off of him. "How do I look?" She asked, taking advantage of how she had him right where she wanted him.

You'd look better on top of me, he thought, adjusting the comforter over his hips to hide his erection. "Delightful for another man to gawk at." He grumbled.

"Mhm. Thought so," She rolled her eyes playfully, reaching for her purse and twirling her truck keys around her finger. "You sure you don't want to come? I'll save you a seat."

Oh, I want to come alright, he thought to himself, taking the opportunity to glance at her rear when she turned towards the door, pushing the suggestive thoughts from his mind as the thought of another man touching her killed his mood. Why is she so fucking passionate about it?

"I'll be here when you get back." He grumbled, watching her nod with a sly smirk on her face.

"Alright. I'll be back in a couple of hours."

"You need a condom?" He scoffed.

"Not like you have any," She replied, arching her brow. "I won't need them."

He breathed heavily at her words.

She smiled, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth as he watched her exit the room and walk into the kitchen, pouring coffee into her tumbler and pouring creamer into the mix. He scoffed as he watched her, adjusting his erection behind his sweatpants, imagining himself pounding into her as she was bent over the counter. She better be fucking with me, he thought.

»»-------¤-------««

On her way to the airport in Cody, she took the opportunity to blast her favorite music through her speakers, inhaling on the vape pen she stored in her console that she had hidden from Simon's line of sight, knowing he'd take it from her as he hated to see her smoke, but the temptation was too strong to not embrace her favorite flavor as the familiar "nicotine high" gave her a familiar, yet welcoming headache.

She had spent not only a lot of money for this to work, but a lot of time ensuring that things fell into place as it was a long distance for the opposite party as well as travel time.

She walked into the airport, sipping from her tumbler of coffee as she waited in the terminal, eager to meet a couple of familiar faces.

She tapped her foot impatiently as she looked at her phone, reading that the time was almost a quarter past eleven. She then began to wonder what Simon was doing - if he was searching for any clues of her suspicious activity or taking care of his pent-up sexual energy while he had the opportunity.

She smirked at the thought, putting her phone away as a familiar voice caught her attention.

She rose to her feet, smiling at him as the group followed him to meet her, embracing him in her arms in a welcoming hug. "It's so nice to see you!" She smiled into his shoulder.

"I can say the same. You're healing nice. Where's Simon?" He asked.

"Home. Mad as a damn wet hen." She smirked.

He nodded, "I understand."

"Let's go cheer him up, shall we?"

"That we shall. That grumpy bloke." He chuckled.

"Did you get your rental? I don't have enough room for all of you in my truck." She asked, opening the Enterprise app on her phone to check the status.

"That's next on my list," He chuckled, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. "I'm eager to meet him."

"He's different. He seems more at home."

"Good."

»»-------¤-------««

The ride back to the ranch was full of familiar conversation as well as needed laughs.

The family was back together. With her truck packed full of luggage and one other person, the rest followed her in a rented Suburban as they convoyed up the long gravel driveway, the guest in awe as he looked out the window. New land, he thought. I like it.

"Look at him, he's mad as fuck." He chuckled, pointing through the tinted window at Simon who had subtly peeked through the blinds at the sound of her truck approaching the house.

"I know," She giggled. "He thought I was cheating."

"He should know better than that."

"That's what I've been thinking, but I know he assumes the worst. I would, too," She explained, putting the truck in park before exiting first, ignoring the pain in her back due to intense soreness. I need a fucking drink after this, she thought. "Wait here. I'll go see how mad he is."

He nodded, sitting back in the seat as he watched her go to the front door, unlocking it to see Simon leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee steaming next to him. "You still mad?"

"Mad enough that you'd bring another man here just to rub my nose in it - you have some nerve, love." He scoffed.

Her cheeks turned red as she found it hard to contain her excitement.

Simon saw every bit of it.

"Oh, I sure did. My handiwork, if I may add."

He furrowed his brows, "What handiwork?" He scoffed.

"Of bringing another man around here with you here." She continued along with his assumed story. "A few men, actually." 

"Yeah, to watch me beat them," He rolled his eyes. "A lot of nerve."

"A lot of nerve to beat your own brothers in arms?" She hinted, arching her brow, smiling at the gleam of excitement in his eyes. Don't you be fucking with me about that, he thought.

He paused, not knowing what to say as he watched her reach for his hand. He took it, letting her lead him toward the front door.

She opened it, nodding towards the truck as the passenger door opened, a familiar hairstyle catching Simon's eye as his feet touched the gravel and the rest of the entourage exited from the Suburban parked next to the truck.

The 141 was back together.

"Can't believe it, man. She saved you a seat and you didn't take it!" Soap poked, opening his arms as he went to retrieve his luggage from the backseat of the truck.

Simon gently squeezed her upper arm, turning her to face him, her healing face smiling back up at him. "You did this? For me?"

"I sure did," She smiled. "We've been talking about this since we got back home. I had Price call me so I can talk to him about it, and he pretended to be my uncle over text so that you wouldn't catch on." She giggled.

A smile tugged at his lips, his arm coming around her shoulders to pull her close to his chest, placing a kiss on her neck as he whispered into her ear, "I love you so fucking much."

"I love you too," She whispered back, wrapping her arms around his waist, her fingertips pressing into the muscle of his back softly. "Merry Christmas, baby."

[soothinglee]

even if my heart stops beating⏤✰

seungmin x reader | 1.6k✔︎

my notes⎯ hello everyone ! I know it's been a while since I've actually wrote something ! I actually got hit by a bus! yeah I had to sue this company called "writers block" and I finally got a settlement! (also happy new year!) I recently (like a week ago) got into Kpop, specifically Stray Kids ! I've read some fan fictions (shameless) about some of my favorites and got inspo to write one! thank you @soobnny . also I haven't wrote anything in a while so i'm a little rusty, i'll be as good as new soon!

warning⎯ mentions of vomit (used as word vomit) and crying.

genre⎯ angst to comfort.✔︎

songs⎯ six feet under; billie eilish | pretty boy; the neighborhood

the old rusted clock that came with the condo you and seungmin bought sits perched on the top of the fridge. Its old, wooden frame slowly caves in on itself as time goes on.

not even an hour or two ago you had happily entered your home to start cooking dinner, not even worrying about showering first because you were so excited to have dinner with your boyfriend.

even going out of your way to spend a hundred dollars over the amount you usually spend to give seungmin the greatest 'welcome home' feast. he and the rest of stray kids had been on tour for the last couple months, traveling all over the world to perform at concerts and do collaborations with other idols to promote their new albums.

sure, it had been lonely, being by yourself all of the time, the only glimpse of your boyfriend you could get is when he could facetime you for 2 minutes or when he responded back to a text 4 hours later. but you understood, you knew what you were getting yourself into even when you started becoming friends with him.

if anything, you were strong, understanding, and flexible to when he couldn't make it to something like a movie night or date when his plane arrives later or practice runs over.

the only thing now, is that he had promised you that he could make it on time to dinner. sending countless 'I swear ill be there' texts and swift calls ensuring his presences at the dinner table during his dance rehearsals.

but now you were sitting at the table alone. a cold jajangmyeon sits in the platter in front of you, a similar on across the table from you. looking up at that old clock the hour turns to 10 and he's officially 2 hours late. it wasn't unknown for him to run a little over his time but this was unbelievable. you curse yourself for being naive and truly thinking he would keep to his word.

as you get up and clean the meal that you created you feel a little piece inside of you break, watching your hard work spill into the leftover containers like your tears. this was embarrassing, waiting around like a puppy in hopes your owner comes home. you were loyal and hopeful to a fault but wasting time and money like this was just unacceptable.

by the time seungmin walked through the front door it was half pass midnight and you had situated yourself infront of the t.v watching a new drama a colleague from work recommended.

"(name)." he calls out, you hear his shoes hit the wall as he takes them off, and then theres a shuffle as he organizes them on the shoe rack. you hear him leave his keys in the bowl on the desk that was by the front door, his footsteps growing louder as he nears the living room.

"(name)." he calls out again, seeing you lay in a cocoon of blankets in the dark, he think maybe you're sleeping so he quietly discards his winter coat on the back of the couch. he flicks on the lamp on the other side of the couch to bring in some light. though when he comes around to sit down he finds your eyes wide open, "why didn't you answer me when I called?"

"why didn't you come on time like you promised?" you quipped back quietly, suddenly too exhausted to have any conversation with him. you try and sink further into the thick blanket as you watch the Netflix symbol load and the next episodes intro plays.

you can't see his face but when he sighs and shifts in his spot you can hear the hesitance, "you already know why, practice ran late, like always."

"whatever."

"'whatever?' what's going on with you?"

"nothing." your tone is snipped but honestly you couldn't care less. somewhere in your soul you feel as though this might be a little extreme of an reaction but there is only so much patience you can give one person. you constantly make time for him and this relationship, so why couldn't he move things around and do the same for you? your eyes remain on the television.

seungmins eyes dart quickly to the t.v and then back to you, noticing that your full attention isn't on him, so he leans over you and goes to grab the remote from your hands. at the sudden loss of contact you make a move to try and get the remote back from him but he effectively powers down the t.v and discards in on the coffee table.

"I'll only repeat myself so many times, what's going on?"

it was like a newfound energy fizzled at your toes and pushed itself up and towards your head, your body springs up from its sideways position and you angle yourself to face seungmin.

though the light was somewhat dim due to only the lamp being on, he could see the red-rim of your eyes and the dried streaks of tears sticking to your cheeks. obviously, it had been evident that you had been crying.

seungmins eyes soften for a moment, he reaches out to try and smooth out the puffiness of your cheeks but as soon as you see his hand coming you push it away, "you were crying?" it comes out more of a statement than a concerned question, but the worry was still evident in his tone.

"duh," you start, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the tense space, you find comfort in the carpet on the ground. you were feeling...nervous. you didn't want to cause anymore problems but things won't get solved unless they are discussed, which in all honesty, the thought of confrontation in the first place is feared.

you need to get it out, you can't stop living like this. deep down you know he cares but you have to stop going off of assumptions. either he's going to show up or not, it was clear already that you showed up no matter how busy you were.

"do you even still love me?"

the question tumbles from your lips before you could even process what you were saying. maybe it wasn't what you wanted to convey exactly but it was definitely a start.

"what?" his airy voice sounds dumbfounded which makes sense. the intense look you're giving him plus the profound, out-of-the-blue question throws him off guard.

of course he loves you, why would you ever think anything different? "where is this coming from?"

"well it's just that every time we have something planned your work gets in the way. I spend hours and hours getting ready, trying to look my best, just to waste the day sitting on the couch waiting for you to come home. sometimes I'm waiting so long I fall asleep! I put so much effort into being a good girlfriend! hell, I even spent over 100 dollars on dinner tonight because I knew you had a hectic day, it took me two hours to make it just for it to go cold and put into a container,"

your voice chokes up, full of exhaustion and disappointment. you feel the tears pooling in your eyes but have no energy to stop them. you really want to quit the word vomit but there's no point, theres more to be said.

"I try so hard to not get disheartened but it gets so hard when you don't even try. sometimes I feel like you don't even care about this relationship anymore, like you don't care about m-"

just as you were about to finish your words were muffled by hands on your face, and lips on yours. seungmin had kissed you to stop your rambling. you couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat offended.

"stop." he whispers as he takes a breath, his hands still on your face, foreheads connecting, "please stop." his voice crack under pressure, its subtle but at the lack of distance between you two you can hear it so well. your eyes are closed, trying to get your own tears at bay but hearing how emotional he's becoming breaks you. a sob teeters at your bottom lip but you force it still.

"don't you ever think that I don't care. I always have." he pauses and wipes the stray tears on your face with his thumbs, "I'm so sorry I've made you feel like this. god I'm such a bad boyfriend, this is my fault."

you try to move away to comfort him but he holds you in place gently, you sniffle and reach up to brush the bangs from his face.

"I promise you I'll be more attentive, ill take you out everyday, spend as much time with you, cook for you, miss practices all the time just to make sure you know I care about you."

"you promised earlier but you didn't come!" you cry, recounting how long you waited.

"I know!" his voice quivers as his hands tremble, lightly shaking your head, "I know...and i'll never forgive myself. you don't know how much you've shaped me into the person I am now and I- I have no clue what I would do without you. I just have a poor way of showing it."

you grip on his wrists, mimicking him with your eyes squeezed shut, you stopped trying to keep the tears in awhile ago, letting them fall freely into your covered lap. "how do I know I can trust you? I'm so sick of feeling like this."

"I promise you I will prioritize you more than anything, Idol life, dancing, singing- whatever, does not come before you. I won't leave you hanging like this anymore, i'm sorry I didn't pay more close attention to your feelings," his bottom lips shakes as he takes another deep breath, he opens his eyes and you can see pass the tears and sorrow a new found determination.

"even if my heart stops beating, you're the only one I need."

past your wary judgement...you believe him...

[sorinethemastermind]

Fluffcember 2024: Christmas Sweater | Rayllum & Sorvus Callum is determined to ask Rayla to be his girlfriend this Winter Break. But if he can't even start a fire, how is he supposed to create the perfect moment? Soren has decided to stay on campus this Christmas, but with Rayla and Callum as his only company, he's starting to feel like a third wheel. Except maybe it's not just the three of them left on campus after all...

 Corvus hadn't planned to keep the cafe open over break. In fact, he hadn't planned to do much of anything. Maybe keep up with his cello practice, go for a few morning jogs, enjoy having the library all to himself...

 Except, of course, that wasn't quite how things had turned out. Somehow Soren walking into the coffee shop and asking to use the oven had changed all of that. Maybe because he had said yes.

 Now he was spending his practice time judging snowman contests instead of playing the cello. His few morning jogs had become a daily routine, with Soren waiting for him on the steps leading down from their building in the brisk dawn light each morning. And he rarely had the library all to himself, not when Callum spent all his free time there, usually dragging Rayla along with him. Corvus had caught them making out in between the stacks more than a few times. 

 And yet he didn't mind it. In fact, he found himself looking forward to those morning jobs, rolling his eyes fondly at Rayla and Callum's sickeningly sweet flirting, and chuckling to himself as he inspected strange snowy abominations.

 He supposed that was part of why he had decided to unofficially reopen the cafe; because while he didn't usually like running the counter, he didn't mind it if it was them. And he missed his chai lattes.

 He was making one for himself when the bell above the door jingled, letting him know that someone had come in. Corvus turned, expecting it to be Callum coming in for a pick-me-up after a late night of reading, but it wasn't.

 It was Soren.

 "Hey, Corvus!" he raised a hand in greeting, crossing the small shop to lean against the counter. Corvus didn't pay attention to the way he flicked his blond hair out of his face. Or the way he'd pushed the sleeves of his horrendously ugly Christmas sweater up to expose his bare forearms.

 "What can I get you?"

 "Got any festive specials?" Soren asked, leaning yet closer to peer at the menu over his shoulder.

 "You do realize we're not actually open, right?"

 "But... Could you make something up?"

 "Soren-"

 "Please." he tilted his head to the side and flashed a playful smile. 

 "Alright. But it might be horrible." Corvus heard himself saying, not even knowing if they had the supplies for something like that.

 "Don't worry, if it is, I'll pretend to like it." Soren winked at him, and Corvus turned quickly to inspect the collection of syrups they had, ignoring the heat rising in his cheeks.

 Was he flirting with him? Or was Soren just like this?

 Corvus threw a quick glance back at the other man over his shoulder.

 He was probably just like this.

 Corvus managed to put together some sort of festive concoction, though he didn't know if it was actually good or if Soren was just pretending like he'd said he would. Either way, he was content that he had made the effort and was ready to leave it at that. Except Soren lingered, tapping his fingers aimlessly against the counter.

 Tap. Tap tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.

 Tap. Tap tap. 

 Tap. Tap tap tap-

 "Hey Corvus?" he asked suddenly, eyes roving across the cramped space of the shop.

 "Yes?"

 "Are you planning to decorate this place?"

 "Why would I do that?" Corvus paused in his cleaning. 

 "Cause it's Christmas!" Soren exclaimed. "And because it would be fun. I've got a bunch of decorations back in my room."

 "Why do you-" Corvus began, but Soren hadn't finished yet.

 "I could bring them all down here." he was saying, holding up his hands as though to take a mental picture of the cafe's interior. "Just picture it! Ribbons there, garland on the door, mistletoe-"

 "Definitely-" Soren's face lit up "-not." Corvus finished. "Why do you have a bunch of decorations, anyway?"

 "I actually just bought them." Soren admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. "The place just felt empty without them. This is my first time not going home for break."

 "Oh." Corvus watched the slight flash of loneliness cross the other man’s face and glanced around the coffee shop again. “But if you bought them for your room, why would you put them up in here?"

 "Something tells me I'm going to be spending more time here, anyway." Soren flashed him a smile.

 "Well, if you already have them, then I suppose it couldn't hurt." Corvus said hurriedly, returning his attention to the cleaning. 

 "Yes!" Soren cheered, clapping his hands together. "You won't regret it. Trust me."

 Corvus did trust him, oddly enough. Though he still had a distinct feeling he would regret it.

 "Are you going to need to be in here the rest of the day?" 

 "The rest of-" Corvus began, then shook his head. He had brought this on himself. "No. No, I shouldn't."

 "Great." Soren beamed. "Then I'll get right to work! You won't even be able to recognize the place."

 Now, Corvus knew that much was true.

 The next time he saw Soren was in the hall stretching between their rooms, the blond's arms filled with boxes and bags, tinsel trailing along behind him and dragging on the floor. Corvus just chuckled and stepped aside to let him pass before continuing to his room. 

 Which was when he spotted the parcel left in front of his door. It wasn't the neatest thing, with bulky sides and too much tape, but Corvus scooped it up and brought it inside with him.

 For Santa's Favorite Hellper, it read.

 Corvus opened it up to find what was undoubtedly the biggest, ugliest, loudest holiday sweater he had ever had the misfortune to lay eyes on. There was another note stuck to the front of it, right next to one of the giant balls of silver tinsel that dotted its surface.

 Now you can match the coffee shop ;)

 Corvus chuckled. Soren had actually drawn a winking emoticon (no, it was probably just a smiling one and he’d messed up the eye). He shook his head, but slipped the sweater on. It fit better than he'd expected, though it didn't look any less ugly when he glanced quickly in the mirror. 

 Maybe that was the point.

 Either way, he didn't mind.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

[NAME REDACTED]

summary: Mammon's list of gender-neutral nicknames to call the ((cute)) stupid customer who keeps ordering shitty drinks

[Fic on A03]

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he stared at them.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Damnit.

He stared at them more, holding the freezing cup at arm's length, as he tried to will them to look at him. Maybe he had developed some kind of psychic power in the last 5 minutes?

Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

Nope. No powers. They still sat hunched, eyes glued to their phone as they scrolled through it. He was just as human and useless as he was 5 minutes ago.

Fuck. Stupid.

It wasn't a big deal. 

It shouldn't be a big deal. 

But Lucifer.

But Lucifer was a perfectionist asshole with eyes and ears in every corner. Any minor slip up on Mammon's part would be taken as yet another typical grand failure.

But Lucifer had got him this job. Had pulled strings with his boyfriend's boss's friend. Had bent over backwards to promise Barbatos that letting Mammon work at his small yet beloved coffee shop wasn't a bad decision. That Mammon wouldn't screw this up like all the other jobs he's had. Like all the other chances he'd been given. 

But Lucifer had said this would be his last chance. He knew it wasn't. It had been his last chance the time before. And the time before that. And the time before that. Lucifer would sigh and yell and sigh again but he'd clean up Mammon's messes. Pay his debts. And give him another chance.

But. Mammon didn't want to mess up. He wanted to keep this job. Wanted to pay off his own debt for once. Wanted to make his big brother proud.

What he didn't want was to piss off Barbatos by destroying his self proclaimed Perfect Customer Service™ on his second day.

Fuck.

This was all their fault. What special kind of dumbass ordered this ice blended caramel, chocolate caffeine monstrosity in the dead of winter anyway.

He took a breath. The chill of the drink was starting to numb his fingers, and condensation was forming on the sides of the cup. Fuck. Okay, he needed to get this over with. He opened his mouth,

"HEY, DUMBASS!"

FUCK.

The person stopped. Their frozen finger hovering over their screen before slowly, with robotic motions, they looked up to stare him dead in the eye. Again, with stilted movement, they looked around the empty shop before turning back to him.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck- 

Mammon's fingers trembled around the still awkwardly outstretched cup. His face flushed and he bit his cheek to stop his eyes from tearing up out of pure frustration. Why didn't he ever think before he spoke. Why was he so stu-

"Thank you."

Mammon blinked. 

They gently took the cup from his grip, face breaking out in a bright smile that crinkled their nose. "I've heard a lot of mispronounced names but Dumbass has gotta be a whole new one."

Mammon floundered. "I - uh -"

"Is it the beanie?" They cut him off, pointing at what was probably the ugliest, most misshapen, thing he had ever seen, sitting atop their head. "I made it myself," they said, beaming proudly.

"Was the drink. 'S cold," he answered in a bit of a stupor.

"Ah," they said, nodding wisely. 

They stared at each other for an hour long 5 seconds, Mammon resisting the urge to bounce on his heels, to say something while their grin transformed into something smaller, softer. 

"Well," they jiggled their cup making the icy liquid slosh against the cap, "I'll be going then. See you."

"See ya."

And they were gone.

His face burned.

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He could feel a bead of sweat trickle down his neck as he stared at them.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck-

Damnit.

It wasn't his fault. It wasn't. There had been a rush and he'd let his body work on autopilot as his mind had drifted to more interesting things. Specifically, payday. It made sense that he'd miss a name or two.

He glared at their turned back. Trying to drag their name out from whatever corner of his mind it had vanished to, he eyed the unintelligible squiggles he'd written on the side of the cup. He took a breath. Opened his mouth,

"OI RED!"

Christ what was wrong with him.

Their head snapped his way and oh. His gaze drifted down to the monstrosity in his hand. 

Oh.

His ears were already red when he looked at the same bright smile he had seen just a week prior. 

"I THOUGHT I WAS DUMBASS?" They yelled back from their seat across the cafe, seemingly taking no note of the audience they had gained.

With a snort and his own lopsided grin he waved them over. 

"Ya hoodie was so bright it overwhelmed the stupidity of ya drink."

They tugged at the offensively red hoodie in question. "That's fair."

"Ya made that too?"

"I'm honoured you have such faith in my craft."

He didn't know eyes could twinkle in real life. Wasn't that just something for Satan's books or Levi's anime. 

"It wasn't a compliment," he replied, a bit numbly as they smiled once more and turned around with a "See you."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He stared at them and they stared back evenly. Shit. How'd he miss their name a third time!?

Taking a breath, 

"YO HUMAN!"

Even from across the room, he could hear the unflattering snort. It made something in his stomach flutter.

"Is this cause you're a demon?" They ask as they near the counter.

"What."

"Your name," they say, "Mammon. Isn't that demonic? Something about money?"

"How'd ya know my name!" He doesn't mean to snap but all he hears is Loan Shark. Loan Shark. Loan Shark. Loan Sha-

"Your nametag, dumbass." They say, tapping at their own chest.

Oh.

"Oh. Ya not a loan shark."

"Nope."

"Ah. Ugh...our father."

"What?" Their head tilts slightly.

Shit. Why was that cute.

"Guy was really religious. Decided to celebrate that by naming all his kids after demons. Ya should meet Lucifer, bastard really lives up to his name. Actually. Wait. Don't. Ya shouldn't meet him. You'd probably fall in love with him."

"Big guy? Grumpy face?"

"...ya know him?"

They shook their head. "I know Barbatos and Diavolo. Only met Lucifer a couple of times," they hum to themselves "didn't really fall in love with him."

"Good."

"Good?"

"I- um- ah that is!" Shit shit his face was heating up "he's such an asshole! And ya deserve a dumbass! Cause of ya...dumbassery..." He needed to throw himself in front of a speeding vehicle.

They smiled, nodding like he had said something profound instead of whatever word vomit he had just spewed, "You're right. I do deserve a dumbass. Thank you, Mammon."

They smile sweetly before heading out and Mammon is left feeling like he missed something monumental.  

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Hey, Dummy! Gotcha caffeinated cavity in a cup right here."

"You're the best, Mammon!"

"I...am? Ah! Course I am! I'm The Great Mammon, after all! What'd ya do without me!"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Here you go, you gremlin. Enjoy."

Their smile is bright as ever. His heart threatens to burst.

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Hey tiny! Ya hear?"

"Mammon, you're barely any taller than me!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep living in ya fantasy world! Now, did ya hear? 'Bout the vacation."

"Diavolo mentioned it. It'll be fun to meet the rest of your brothers."

"Pfffttt yeah right! Listen, ya knew me first so ya gotta spend time with me. I still needta figure out ya name. I can't have those jerks beatin' me to it!"

"Ah, sure Mammon. Anything to please my favourite barista."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Ya still on for movie night?"

"Horror?"

"NO!"

"Why not? You're cute when you cling on to me and cry."

"Dick."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Can't ya ever order anythin' else, brat?"

"Nope."

 -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"Darlin',"

"Love,"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He wrapped his arms around their waist and hooked his chin over their shoulder. He could hear his brothers moving about the house. The smell of frying bacon probably waking them. 

"Babe." He said.

"Dumbass." They replied.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_‐_-

"Mine." He growled.

"Mine." They whispered.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"And this," he'd say to anyone who'd listen, "is my partner in crime."

->

[First Posted: 28th July 2020]

[Fic on AO3]

[possibilistfanfiction]

Ava and beatrice foster-fail and adopt a dog, bea’s first concert, idk, one of them goes to the dentist?? Also I know you’re in LA but would love to see them in a Winter Situation haha

'bea,' you say, 'hey, what's wrong?'

she's obviously stressed, sitting very still behind the desk in her home office, clenching her jaw, a little bit of her hair sticking up from, you presume, a nervous tic of running her hands through it.

'is it really bad?'

'the worst,' she says, in such a dramatic way that you know it's all actually fine. the war has been over, now, for a few months — there are leftover battles, loose ends to tie up from time to time, but her pouting seems to be more about — 'it's time for my semiannual dental cleaning. next tuesday, at 2 pm.'

'oh, well, that's chill, right?' the last time you'd been to the dentist, mostly upon bea's insistence, your dentist, dr. pang, had been cool and had even let you look in the toybox usually reserved for kids once you'd finished. maybe because of the halo or just dumb luck, but you hadn't had any cavities. 'you brush your teeth with that fancy toothbrush, like, three times a day, with your little timer. i'm sure your teeth are perfect.'

it doesn't help: beatrice just grimaces. 'i — i just don't like the dentist.'

'that's okay. sometimes we just don't like shit, you know. do you want me to come with? we can get lunch after or something.'

'you would —' she pauses; you'd talked about this recently, in couples counseling, how when you offer to do something for her, it's because you love her, because you want to, and nothing generative comes, for either of you, from her denying what she wants. 'i would actually like that, quite a lot.'

'okay then,' you say. 'next tuesday at 2 pm — you, me, and dr. pang's cool toybox.'

/

you realize very quickly on tuesday at 1:50 pm that 'i don't like the dentist' is a euphemism for 'i'm absolutely terrified of the dentist,' because beatrice is about to break your hand and also vibrate out of her own skin as soon as she pulls into the parking lot.

'do you want to do some grounding exercises or something?'

'no, ava,' she says, irritated, but then gathers herself. 'sorry. no, i'm fine.’ you raise a brow and she just huffs. 'i just don't like someone being that close to my face.'

'you have no problems with me being that close to your face. just imagine that dr. pang is me.'

it gets her to laugh, reluctantly, but you're sure she is imagining it. 'that's more terrifying, actually.'

'okay, me with a degree in dentistry. important edit if you're unwilling to have any imagination.'

she just rolls her eyes.

'you're gonna be just fine,' you say. 'and i'll be there the entire time, okay?'

'yeah,' she says, dragging a hand through her hair and then smoothing it down carefully, checking her reflection in the visor mirror once, and then setting her shoulders like she's about to go into battle; you stifle a laugh; you love her. 'okay.'

/

'you have someone to drive you home and take care of you today? you shouldn't have any pain, but you'll be a little out of it.'

bea nods, stiffly, but then points at where you're sitting in the corner of the waiting room. 'my partner, yes.'

'looking forward to the part where she'll be a little out of it, honestly.'

bea rolls her eyes at you while the receptionist laughs, and then, when bea is done with any paperwork, she comes and sits next to you. you lace your fingers together. 'you know, you've had, like, pretty bad injuries and surgeries and stuff, right?'

'yes, ava, obviously i know that.' she pinches the bridge of her nose. 'it doesn't help me, in this situation, to compare. i know it's — it's not logical, to be so afraid of a cavity filling.'

'nah.' you squeeze her hand. 'that's not what i was gonna say.' you smile at her, like you're not at the dentist's office, like you're out by the beach in the morning after she's surfed and you'd brought donuts and coffee and kiss her and shoo the gulls away. 'i just meant that, you know, i've been scared during those, but i got to hold you afterward and help. and i know you're feeling really scared, but i can be brave for you right now, and then i get to spend all day holding you and taking care of you. which, beatrice, i love to do. okay?'

she tucks her head into your neck, just for a second, just like heaven, and then nods. 'i love you. okay.'

/

bea is ... laughing. at nothing, you're pretty sure, if the blank tv is anything to go off of; she'd fallen asleep in the car on the way home but the second you got her situated on the couch she'd just started, well, giggling, and she hasn't stopped.

'what's so silly?'

she rolls her head toward you, sloppily, and you are so grateful for this time, for this life, for this life: beatrice trusts you — to build a home, and to keep her safe. 'everything,' she says, and then snorts, which makes her laugh even harder.

you smile and kiss her forehead. 'i promised camila i'd record this. keep going, whatever you're vibing with.'

she happily tells a very rambling story about the time you'd tried to make pasta from scratch, interjected with some non-sequitur facts about flamingos, giggling the entire time. she's in her favorite hoodie and joggers and had, very intensely, insisted on taking her socks off. you send the video to camila when she seems to finish on her own, trailing off and then just staring at you with a helpless little smile on her face.

'ava?'

'yes, bea?'

'first, you're so beautiful. i love you so much. can you believe there was ever a time i thought i could spend my entire life not acting on my desires of the flesh?'

you decide to just roll with it. 'honestly? no. you're, like, the gayest person i've ever met.'

'you're jealous when women flirt with me at the bar or the beach.'

you roll your eyes, let yourself trace her freckles and the gentle slope of her nose, scratch your nails gently against the buzzed sides of her hair. 'mostly for fun,' you say. 'i know you're coming home with me at the end of the night.'

'always.'

'did you have a second?'

'what?'

'well, you said first, so, i'm not sure where you were going after that.'

'oh,' she says, and then squints into the distance, like she's trying really hard to remember. 'can we please order thai tonight. i'm thinking about it always, in the back of my mind.'

'always?'

'oh, yes,' she says. 'that green curry fried rice i had last time?' she kisses her fingers and then holds them out. 'life changing.'

you laugh and grab her hand from the air, tuck it against your cheek and kiss her knuckles. 'as long as you let me have the extra spring roll.'

'you know i always let you do that.'

'yeah,' you say, 'you do.'

'ava?'

'yeah, bea?'

'i could tell you that i love you in every language ever spoken and it would never be enough.' she puts your joined hands to her chest. 'there are no words, for how i feel for you.'

you kiss her, even though she tastes kind of weird after her cavity filling. 'i love you too, in all the universes.' i came back for you, you mean, but you don't say it aloud, not now, not when it's sunny and warm and she's open before you, herself. 'now, why don't you nap. i'll turn on something exceedingly dull so you don't get distracted. and i'll order thai.'

'you're the best. i can't wait to marry you one day.'

it makes you feel warm; the halo hums. 'that'll be the best day.'

/

'ava.'

'hmm?'

bea stalks out to where you're drinking coffee on the balcony, the sun already at its mid-morning warmth. she means to look intimidating but she has on a pair of little striped sleep shorts and an old crewneck sweater, one sleeve pulled over her hand and the other pushed up to her elbow; her hair is sticking up around the cowlick in the back, like it always does after she's gotten a fresh haircut and sleeps in.

'what did you send to the group chat?'

'oh, you were in excellent form yesterday,' you say, not sorry at all. 'had a lot of opinions on flamingos and margot robbie. gotta say, can't even hold that one against you. she'd be a great choice for a threesome, i agree.'

'i did not say that.'

her blush is bright and goes all the way down her neck, to the tips of her ears. 'nah, you didn't.' she slumps in relief and you laugh. 'but now i know you think it, which is fun.'

'so... these videos of me, medicated, are — innocuous?'

'yeah, i didn't send the one where you went into detail about you riding my face to our friends who are nuns.'

she sits on the chair next to yours and buries her face in her hands. 'was i a pain?'

'not at all,' you say, and smooth a hand down her spine and then rest it on her neck and massage the tension sitting there. 'you were cute. i like taking care of you.'

'well, i feel coherent today.'

'that's good, they said everything should be normal.'

'i'm sorry,' she says, 'for being scared, and then for being so high.'

you wave her off. 'don't ever apologize for being scared. maybe, at some point, you can apologize if you like, willingly eat too much of an edible or something, but don't apologize for needing meds to help you. i love you.'

she smiles softly. 'thank you.'

'i love you, bea,' you say. 'you gotta understand, okay? i love you, i love you, i love you.'

she kisses you, softly, and she tastes like regular toothpaste and home.

'i do want to state, for the record, though, that i have never had a cavity, and now, you have had two.'

she groans. 'don't remind me.'

[bonni]

it's true that i've been living alone for 9 months and my apartment is still kind of a mess and i haven't organized/decorated it in the way i would like to but i think i haven't given myself enough credit for how busy i've been the whole time. i left a dv situation in the middle of the fall semester and had to scramble to finish it just as the trauma started to really hit me, the first few months i was also continuing to field frequent phone calls from my emotionally abusive and deeply suicidal ex, i spent my winter break struggling with seasonal affective disorder as i attempted to process what a farce my life had become over the last 4 years, then when the spring semester started i was immediately thrown into writing a graduate-length thesis. and then as soon as the semester ended i immediately took 2 trips! luckily my next semester i'm only taking 2 classes so hopefully i'll have more time for myself and i can organize all my little toys and put up some posters and stuff. and maybe finally clean the floors