#ouch tooth 3

[leonw4nter]

A Little Tipsy But Massively In Love

Husband!DI!Leon x F!Reader

“Honey, is something wrong?” you ask your husband. He’s been keeping a hand on a portion of his jaw, occasionally wincing and hissing; he has also been making repeated trips to the fridge, looking for anything cold to place on the part of his face that seems to be bothering him.

“No, ‘s fine.” he promptly responds as he shoots you a half grin, clearly in discomfort. He gets back to placing a cold bottle of water against his face, letting out a small breath of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. Leon’s avoided talking and moving all day, just giving you a thumbs up, a nod or a few words which you find odd; he’s always been very vocal about what he thinks or feels so this is certainly a little new.

“C’mon honey, I can clearly tell something’s bothering you,” you softly say.

“It’s nothing.” he softly mutters.

“It’s not nothing. You’ve been holding your jaw all day. Got a toothache?”

He finally turns his head to you, finally nodding his head bashfully towards you. He promptly looks away though, training his gaze somewhere as the tips of his ears redden in embarrassment; he’s certainly experienced pain much worse compared to a toothache like getting shot or hosting a parasite in his body but something as minuscule as a toothache renders him unable to perform mundane daily tasks.

“Hm. I can check if there’s swelling in your gums. Is that okay with you?” you gently ask.

“Mhm,” he softly hums. You take your phone and turn the flash on before telling Leon to open up and to your slight surprise, he actually opens his mouth for the sake of opening it and doesn’t go “It all started on September 30th, 1998…”; this toothache might be a lot more uncomfortable for him. Sure enough, there’s a swelling and protrusion in a portion of his gum just right after the last molar. You finally tell him to close his mouth and he puts the cold water bottle back on his cheek.

“There's swelling. Let’s take you to the dentist tomorrow, it looks pretty serious. Might be a wisdom tooth thing.”

“Sure thing, doc.” Leon quips with a half-grin though the grin immediately falls back into a frown.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After scheduling a visit to the dentist, he deduced the swelling and protrusion to an erupting wisdom tooth which he suggested extraction. 3 days later, you two come back to the clinic. While waiting for your turn, you hold Leon’s hand and brush your thumb repeatedly at the back of his hand and give him encouraging words.

“Don’t worry, Leon. You’ll be fine, I’ll be right here waiting for you okay?” you softly encourage.

“And I won’t make fun of you if you’re still woozy from the anesthesia. I promise,” you add with a small giggle.

“But you’re giggling,” Leon points out with a pout.

“I promise! Seriously! Pinky promise!” you say once more as you lift your pinky finger, to which Leon links his own pinky with and gives you a small kiss to the temple.

“I’ll make sure to lug your 5’11 self to the car and drive you home, don’t worry. Just focus on feeling a lot better, mkay?”

“For someone who got their wisdom tooth pulled out eons ago, it’s a surprise you’ve got some words of wisdom for me,” Leon jokes which prompts you to roll your eyes.

“You have a hidden talent with these jokes so I suggest you keep them hidden,” you sarcastically say.

“Ouch.”

A nurse comes into the holding room and reads the last names off of her clipboard.

“Patient 5, Mister… Kennedy. Mister Kennedy?”

“Here,” he says as he stands up. He turns around and gives you a small hug. “See you later, hon.”

“Mhm. You can do this, Leon. It’s going to be just like a walk in the park.”

“Right. Just like a walk in the park.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

45 minutes later, the dentist comes back to you and informs you that the procedure went smoothly and they managed to get the tooth out without much trouble much to your relief.

“Your husband will be a little woozy from the anesthesia so expect behavior that is similar to a drunken person– slurred speech, nonsensical babbling, and slightly wobbly. He’s still asleep right now but you should expect him to wake up in a few minutes or less,” he informs you. He rips off a paper from his notepad and hands it to you, explaining some more things like Leon’s medications, proper care, and pain relief. After a few minutes, you walk into his room and see him still asleep; his right cheek was swollen, gauze stuffed in the inside of his right cheek. He looked a little funny at this moment, which caused you to take your phone out and snap a few photos for safe-keeping (maybe as a new contact photo for his number). Soon, he wakes up though he is a little dazed and confused at his surroundings so you help him through it. He must really, really be confused because as you help him put his shirt back on, he tries to push you away and do it by himself. His movements look as if he’s actively trying to avoid you, not even lifting his droopy eyelids to take a look at you, which you found a little bit odd. He did accept help from you, just very hesitantly; when you decided to hold on to his bicep, he pulled his arm away and almost stumbled down but you managed to grab him back and successfully managed to get him into the car without any other troubles.

While driving, you noticed that he would often steal glances from you through the rear-view mirror with squinty eyes but once you two met gazes, he would promptly look away. The situation felt a little funny: Leon sitting at the rear passenger seats, very woozy from the sedatives administered and him acting like a little kid; you decided to seat Leon on the rear passenger seats instead of sitting in the front with you in case he decided to act irrational whilst still not in the right mind, which could cause an issue with trying to drive home peacefully. You found yourself giggling a little bit but nevertheless you kept your focus on getting home safely, which you managed to do. After a few minutes of helping Leon and asking him if there’s something that’s bothering him and reassuring him that you’ve got him, you successfully manage to get him in your shared bed. You were just about to help him undress and take his shirt off to switch him into a more comfortable piece of clothing but he inches away and grabs your wrist.

“No… my wife won’t be very happy seeing you touch me like this,” he quietly mumbles as he tries to put on a serious expression but fails with one side of his cheek looking a little more round than the other.

“Huh?” you mumble.

“I’m a married man, miss. My wife won’t be happy and I’m not happy either.”

“Leon, what are you talking about?”

“Nuh-uh, miss. Only my wife can touch me like this, this is kidnapping… though you know where to bring me…”

“I am your wife, Leon,” you softly say as you tenderly pat the hand with his wedding ring and smile sweetly at him. You immediately realized that Leon didn’t notice that you were still there and very much his wife. It all comes together now: due to his disoriented state, he didn’t know that you were the one taking care of him this entire time and mistook you for another person, therefore causing him to avoid being touchy with you.

He stares you down for a bit, a cold and calculating gaze effectively analyzing and figuring you out but you can tell that he’s also trying to get himself together. The moment he recognizes you is comical��� his eyes lighten up and a lopsided grin forms on his lips, a small amount of gaze poking out of his mouth. His next action pulls a loud giggle from you: he takes two fingers and places it against the pulse in his neck, blushing when he realizes his heart is absolutely trying to break free from the confines of his ribcage.

“‘M sorry, baby. Feeling a lil drunk, right now,” he apologetically mumbles whilst keeping that goofy grin in his face.

You place a kiss on his forehead before helping him out of his shirt, this time with him cooperating with you and raising his arms above his head.

“It’s fine. Good to know we’re locked and loaded in this marriage,” you joke with a raised eyebrow. Finally, you finish helping him with his other clothes and jump into bed with him. Propping two pillows behind you, you sit up and get into a comfortable position so you can read your book for the time being wherein you need to watch over him.

“My cheek kinda hurts,” he quietly groans. You shift to comfortably move to his position, looking at the cheek and trying to see if there was more swelling.

“Right here,” Leon points. You scoot a little closer to get a better look but don’t see any swelling.

“Honey–”

Before you could ask him how bad the pain is since you don’t see his cheek look a little more swollen, he gently cups your cheek with one hand and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose which causes him to hiss in slight discomfort due to his movement.

“Leon! It’s going to hurt more!”

“I need a kiss to feel better,” he retorts.

“You’ll get that kiss when we get that gauze out of your mouth and you can finally have some water.”

NOTE - Hey y'all I made it out alive of my 1 and 1/2-day school camping trip but I'm just rlly tired rn so I'm sorry for a lot of the errors that were probably in here (I didn't sleep the entire night... and I've been moving nonstop for the past 24 hours until 9AM of today...). Despite being really tired, I still had so much fun :)) We did zip lining, a rope and obstacle course, rappelling, and wall climbing (which i suck ASS at- like I literally fell and slipped like twice but dw I'm fine since I was attached to a harness; I was the only one unable to complete the climb in my squad 💀). There was a tree whose name literally translated to "deer balls" because the fruit resembles a deer's dingleberries... that was a little funny ngl. Also my cat went missing and I miss him so much please come back 😭😭😭 Anyways, that's it and expect my next fic to be camp-inspired since I came up with the idea whilst at my camping trip. Thanks for reading my fics, I appreciate it TONSSS. I <3 you !!!!

The heart dividers were made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[1onelypoet]

sweet tooth (for you) pt4 || lando norris smau

a/n: sorry this one is so short and took forever too :( i've been rlly busy with life n stuff but i have some time these following days so hopefully i'll acc make progress on pt5 😭 as always tysm for all the love ❤️

pairing: lando norris x singer! ex-leclerc! reader

fc: reneé rapp

warnings: cursing

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday, @kapsylia, @i-wish-this-was-me, @minkyungseokie, @toasttt11, @namgification, @whyraspberries, @1655clean, @d3kstar, @formulaal, @allywthsr

disclaimer: this is completely fictional. no hate meant towards anyone mentioned.

part one, part two, part three

December 23

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yourusername added to their story December 31

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January 1

yourusername January 1

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tagged goodmorningamerica, yourbff, yukitsunoda0511, spotify, lilymhe

yourusername 2023 recap ft a bunch of rlly cool ppl <3 manifesting good things for us all in 2024 :)

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yourbff OMG I MADE THE CUT

yourusername ofc ur my pookie after all

yukitsunoda0511 I look good in that suit

user3 YES U REALLY FUCKING DO YUKI

user4 no charles 😔

user5 lmao what were u expecting, he literally cheated on her

user6 i miss mom and dad 💔💔💔 ↳ user7 please log off!

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January 6

January 6

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tagged yourusername

f1gossip Y/n L/n spotted entering Lando's apartment in Monaco

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user11 um what the fuck!

user12 my exact reaction

user13 the off season will be uneventful they said, nothing will happen they said

user14 are they dating?

user15 i hope not. that would be shitty of both lando and y/n ↳ user16 also charles and lando would probs not get along anymore :(

user17 WHAT IS SHE DOING THERE??????

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January 10 (Lando)

therealf1gossip January 15

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therealf1gossip Tea Time:

Brace yourselves, because it seems our latest lovebirds, Charles and Manon, are caught in the whirlwind of relationship drama. Whispers in the paddock hint at Charles' reluctance to fully embrace their romance, leaving us all scratching our heads and dishing out theories (spill yours below 🔎). Could it be that the old flames of a relationship with Y/n refuse to flicker out, casting a shadow over his current flame? The plot thickens!

And just when we thought it couldn't get any juicier, winter training camp rolls around, serving as the catalyst for an explosive confrontation. Picture this: Manon, left high and dry as Charles jets off to the Dolomites for winter training. Ouch! Needless to say, feathers were ruffled, and tensions soared to unprecedented heights. Will this star-crossed duo weather the storm, or are we witnessing the beginning of the end? Stay tuned for more!

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user19 source: just trust me bro

user20 I'm not one to pray on couple's downfalls but...

user21 🛐🛐🛐

user22 admin thinks theyre gossip girl

user23 YESSS ITS SO FUCKING DRAMATIC FOR NO REASONNN

user24 please get a life that doesn't revolve around ppl u don't know

user25 lol cant wait for him to drop manon 😝

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[ada7201]

hi ada! may I request something very similar to the "only girl in blue lock" request? the reader is a bit more closed off and keeps to herself- like rin. but she's not mean just a bit sarcastic, and she's friendly-- like not hard to approach. although the guys in blue lock might be crushing on her, she's only focused on one thing and one thing only, becoming a successful footballer. she has a good relationship with her teammates, joking around with them and all-- her skills are still extraordinary! you can totally ignore this if you'd like, no pressure pookie <3

hello! this sounds so cute, and im happy to do your request! here you go!! (๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)

my apologies if this was short, i didn’t know how to write it so that everyone could like her - and i didn’t really know how to write y/n as reserved, but i tried 🤍!

hope you like it ^ ^

a girl at blue lock? 𖦹 version 2

❥ blue lock x female reader

“THERE’S NO WAY SHE’S BETTER THAN ME!!” “calm down.” “she probably is…” “SHUT UP!” “i hope she’s cute!” “you think she’d be into me?” “how was a girl even let into blue lock?”

wow. that’s a lot of voices…

as you walked into the room - room Z? you were greeted by the voice of way too many people.

“hello! you’re the girl everybody’s talking about, right!” another voice would ask from behind you, a sickeningly polite smile on his face.

oh, it’s that boy who decided to talk back to Ego.

“mhm.” you respond with a hum, walking past him with your eyes focused on the floor. he seems a bit too… charming. did he think he was going to win you over?

you found yourself a nice corner - near lockers or something? and wow, that’s a really muscular guy.

you stayed quiet, choosing not to interact with him either.

“hello.” he said, looking down to you.

wow. just great.

“hello,” you smile politely, glancing at him briefly before shuffling through your bag again.

that bug eyed bowl cut freak was nice enough to let you bring it, so you guessed that you should be grateful.

“HEY!!” a voice shrieked out from behind you. another? and has he had any water today? why is his voice so dry?

“hm?” you turn around - eyes widening as a figure rushed towards you.

what’s with that grin on his face?

“SHOW ME WHAT YOU’VE GOT!” he shouts, before crashing straight into you.

you and the sharp toothed boy crashed straight into the muscular man with a loud “thud”

“ouch-“ you were cut off by the loud boy’s hand straight on your mouth as he stood up, towering over you.

does he not have any manners? what’s his deal?

“are you alright?” the orange haired male asks from behind you, placing a gentle hand on your back. “i’m sorry about - him.” he’d sigh.

“mhm… yeah.” you groan, shuffling away from the two boys. is this how it’s going to be like for the rest of… blue lock? yeah, that’s what it’s called.

he stood up, holding a hand out for you to take aswell. you gently held his hand, standing up. you turned your head to the weird teeth boy, sending a soft glare his way before looking back up at the muscular man.

“thank you.” you mumble, letting go of his larger hand.

the whole tag game went by pretty fast, with most of them avoiding you - why?

it’s not like your weak. you could argue that you were probably the best player in the room.

were they trying to be gentlemanly? how pathetic.

the evening soon came, and you were not very pleased to hear that you had to share - yes, share - the bathrooms with the rest of the team.

how wonderful.

“y/n! you getting into the shower yet?” a bald headed boy - no, buzz cut - sang from behind you.

“no, i’m gonna escape from blue lock - of course i’m getting into the shower.” you scoff, side eyeing the boy before looking back to your bag - making sure you’ve got everything.

“without me-“ he was cut off by a slap to the back of his head from - Chigiri?

“thank you.” you smile softly the red haired boy, picking your bag up. it seemed that he was also heading for the showers.

he didn’t look like the pervert type, so maybe it’ll be fine. his skin is pretty clear, too. he reminds you a lot of a girl from your school.

“no problem. you mind if i join you?” he asks simply. was he… avoiding eye contact?

“i don’t mind.” you say, rather quietly.

he nods in response, nodding towards the entrance to the bathroom. the two of you started walking, both staying quiet.

each game with team Z was exciting, and with you being the great player you are, it’s no surprise how you guys made it that far.

“y/n right?” a little voice said from behind you.

you were stood in the cafeteria, munching on some food that you have been basically dying for. who was that boy, again? oh. Niko, you think.

“yup.” you say quietly, before taking another spoonful of the rice in front on you. it wasn’t extremely delicious, but you could live with it.

“you’re a good player.” he says in a soft voice, walking towards you. “i watched some of your matches.” he adds, sitting down next to you.

“oh, thanks.” you respond, glancing over to him.

“y/nnnn!” Bachira giggled from the entrance, followed by Isagi and Kunigami who walked behind him.

“oh, hello.” you say quietly, looking back at the three boys who just arrived before looking back at your meal.

Niko looked over to Isagi, his eyes narrowing slightly. he was so lucky - he got to be on a team with a pretty, and talented, girl like you. how dare he.

the three boys appeared behind you, Kunigami placing a hand on the top of your head. Bachira looked down at your food, before looking at your eyes.

as soon as you blinked, he swiped your food and took a few spoonfuls.

“ah- hey!” you exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing as you glared up at the dual haired male.

Kunigami chuckled, along with Isagi. “i can give you my food, if you want?” the orange haired boy offered, ruffling you hair a little.

“no, thank you.” you say softly, followed by a sigh. “i’m probably gonna head to the showers anyways.” you add, getting out of your seat. “bye everyone.” you wave them goodbye, before making your way towards the showers. Chigiri had promised to share some of his hair and skin products with you, if you shared your face masks with him.

so, that’s exactly what the two of you did! you were sat on the bathroom counter, smiling happily to yourself as you placed the face mask onto your face - Chigiri’s slim hands reached out, helping you smooth it out as he tried not to smile, causing the face mask he was wearing to crinkle. but it was just so hard - you’re so cute!

the two of you had a nice time, until Bachira decided to ruin it by running in, graciously wearing a towel - that was about to slip.

that wasn’t a very fun experience, you would say.

the night was just like any other, with Raichi clinging onto you in his sleep - mumbling curses and sometimes even managing to hit you. how did he do that… while sleeping? at least he was nice enough to apologise in the morning when he woke up.

“i’m- sorry.” he grunts, folding his arms as a blush covered his cheeks.

he wouldn’t ever admit it, but it was actually kind of nice to wake up next to a pretty girl, hugging her no less.

during the second selection, it was an understatement to say your team missed you.

couldn’t say the same about you, though - you trained hard, and managed to be one of the first to get out - go you!

until you saw him - Itoshi Rin.

you couldn’t lie, he’s real hot. but you have a goal - to be the best striker in the world!

Ego allowed you to join up with Rin, Tokimitsu, and someone called Aryu who would not stop talking to you. something about being beautiful?

you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks growing warmer at his compliments.

Tokimitsu would mumble apologies every second, saying things like “im sorry for being in your presence, y/n” “i don’t deserve to breathe around such a pretty girl” he was quite a cute guy, you wish that he would have a little more self confidence.

and there was Rin - he was a bit like you, so the two of you didn’t talk to each other much. not like you wanted to, anyways.

your only goal is to become the best.

“you’re a good player, y/n.” Rin would compliment shyly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

“thank you.” you respond politely, cheeks growing warmer - at this point, you think your cheeks will explode from how many compliments you’ve gotten!

[jamneuromain]

For your Lloyd and Secretary one, what if someone who works closely with Brewer finds out about how he died and seeks out for vengeance? And how about he kidnaps and enslaves Secretary and Lloyd has to get her back? But the Secretary thinks that Lloyd would just replace her, even if she had developed some feelings for Lloyd, she still believed that he would leave her. But Lloyd finds her.

Hi nonnies! Sorry for taking so long to write :3

I love your ideas and I present to you--

Out for Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader (Driver!Denny Carmicheal), Graphic Depiction of Blood and Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has hemophobia (fear of blood), a lot of cursing.

W/C: ~5k

Summary: You were captured by a rival gang. Would Lloyd come and save you?

A/N: This is a sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love to Mob!Lloyd<333

For the record, your hemophobia is directed to blood coming from other people, not your own. You wouldn’t faint or puke if you had a papercut, but you would (and did) puke when Lloyd showed up at your door a few weeks ago, littered with blood and cuts.

Tasting the faint tang of rust and salt from the cut inside your cheek, your tongue inevitably touches the wound in your mouth.

Ouch, it stings.

An almost ridiculous - but somewhat fits the situation you are facing - idea comes to mind.

You hope Lloyd could pay for your dental care if your tooth gets knocked out.

In a dark humid stinky cell, you are obligated to keep yourself from fainting.

How long is it since you’ve been captured? An hour? Two?

You don’t know. Not that the concrete walls give any clues as to where you are and when is it.

Your head is dizzy, and somewhere on the back of your head is throbbing, possibly the spot where someone knocks your head with a baseball bat or a heavy club.

-who the heck still uses a club to beat the shit out of their victims to issue a kidnapping these days? Aren’t they worried about possible brain injuries?

Your hands and feet are tied to a plain wooden chair with zip ties, not something you can get out of without tools and time. Knowing that they kidnapped you and took you to this place, instead of dumping you down the pier with a large stone tied to your feet? You’ve got time, some of them at least. They want something from you, hence the reason why you are alive.

The problem is to rescue yourself before they realize nothing is coming out of your mouth.

So, the real question is, how much time do you have?

Dull thuds of footsteps approach you. After some screeching from the iron bars and the clang of the lock opened by a key, that is supposed to be the cell gate’s composition, you assume, for you are forced in another direction having been tied to the chair, another screeching sound, and the door swings open, entering two men.

They stand before you, one has his hands on his hips, the other crossing his arm.

Think. Your mind goes one hundred miles per hour. Think. Sometimes Lloyd keeps his captives alive, but only when his men are wearing masks. But these two are showing their faces in broad daylight – nightlight, to be precise, since you left the office around 7:30 pm, and later got a smack in the head after having picked up the dry cleaning for Lloyd.

You watched their faces closely. The first man who appears before you is shorter than the other, it is difficult to tell his height when you are sitting on a chair, but you assume he is approximately your height (which is definitely short for an average man), medium build – again, it is hard to tell with his jacket on, you have to conduct most of your analysis base on guesswork. Something about his face looks familiar, however, you cannot pinpoint who or what, since as a secretary, you meet a lot of people daily.

The other guy, the taller one and the more muscular one, doesn’t strike you as someone you know in the past. A hint of tattoo peeks on the back of his hand, a sharp edge with the color of tattoo ink. The beard covers half his face, and that he’s bald, in contrast to his wild facial hair.

“Well, well, well.” The first one smirks, “If it isn’t Lloyd’s pretty thing in our hands.”

Think. They haven’t killed you yet, but they are planning to. Think of something smart. To stall. Or to gather enough information so that Lloyd will know who to revenge on if you are dead.

The hair on the back of your neck practically stands when the word “dead” crosses your mind for a split second.

You cannot panic. Not now. Think.

“You can drop an invitation to my mailbox, y’know? If you wanna talk.” You look up at them. A small smile raises the corner of your lips, but you are not smiling, not really, because your sharp eyes are taking in the minor changes in their expressions.

The first one raises his eyebrows, somewhat surprised, while the second one remains stoic.

“Impressive.” The man compliments, “Thought you would thrash and kick, but I guess you have seen too much of this - ” He gestures to your tied-up position, “working for Lloyd, eh?”

You neither confirm nor deny, yet, you make an attempt at deciphering his intentions, “What is it with this time?” God, you sound like you have been kidnapped twice a week since you got the secretary job. You raise your eyebrows as he does, “Threats to cooperate? Info about his latest business? Or are you two with the FBI?”

They both glance at each other when you mention the FBI.

Good news, they are not cops.

Bad news, they are not cops, which means they are more likely to kill you.

“Hey, you.” You turn your head to the silent bulk of beard, “Didn’t I see you tattling to your badge buddy two weeks ago? Is it what this is about? That I see you tipped off the cops?”

Of course, you haven’t seen the second man tattling to the cops. You don’t know him. But considering the tension ever since you pose the possibility that they are with the police and law enforcement, it is not a bad way to start an argument between the two of them.

That is, hopefully, there are only two that initiated your kidnapping. The plan of brewing a feud among the kidnappers would be more difficult to implement if there’s another person involved.

Under the first man’s continuous stare, the second man huffs out a grunt, grabs your hair in one hand, and lands a blow into your stomach with the other.

“Cука.” He grumbles, stepping back to where he was standing.

If it weren’t for the pain in your stomach, as the blow on your stomach feels like your guts have cracked into four pieces, you would most absolutely jump up from the chair that has you tied, and clap, for he has bared his identity before you, stripping clean.

Thank fuck you know a few curse words in Russian, one of them being “cука”, which means “bitch”.

Russian mob it is.

You know about the Russian mob in LA. A few weeks ago, Lloyd teamed up with one of his business partners to sell illegal substances (a nice way of putting it) and gradually took up the Russian turf. He got shot and was nearly killed after that, when the Russians ambushed him in the clinic he used to go, killing his doctor and one of his men. Lloyd himself barely got out alive and took shelter in your apartment.

Today, around 7 pm, Lloyd took his driver Denny and two of his henchmen to a club he owned to meet the Russians to settle for a truce. As his secretary, you know that he usually conducts his mob business there, instead of in the building where you work. So, you finished up the paperwork and called it a night, while ordering some pizza since cooking would take an additional one hour and a half.

You were on your way home, stopping by on the side of the curb to pick up Lloyd’s dry cleaning when you lost consciousness after a hit in the head.

Oh crap, you would have to send those clothes to the dry cleaning again.

Focus. You take a deep breath, clearing the irrelevant thoughts from your mind. Think smart. How could you subtly prove yourself worthy to them?

“Fine.” You huff out, “You are not working with a badge buddy, I get it.” Adding some sarcasm to the mix, you twitch the muscles on your face, your tone as despising as your expression, “I’m sure what I’ve seen with my own eyes is purely some illusion-voodoo shit.”

Great. Now you sound like Lloyd fucking Hansen.

The first man clears his throat, effectively silencing the grumbling Russian guy.

“Quite a temper.” He pulls a chair from the corner of the cell, sitting in front of you, pointing at himself, then back at you, “You know, we could’ve been friends, you and I.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk your brow, “What’s stopping ya’? Enlighten me.”

Shit. Too Lloyd.

You are somewhat surprised when he responds per your ask, “If you insist…”

Yeah well, you weren’t exactly insisting (or interested, for that matter, you couldn’t care less). Nevertheless, you nod for him to continue.

“Suza Brewer. Rings a bell?” He smiles, but the friendliness is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, the name Suza Brewer rings a bell. Unfortunately, it’s the bad kind of bell.

Brewer had threatened to have you to himself, and asked Lloyd – not in a nice way – to balance between their deal and you.

… since you are alive and breathing and your limbs are still intact, without a doubt, Lloyd chose you, his faithful employee over the dumb biker Brewer, and fed Brewer to the fishes. You had speculated that there were crocodiles underwater where he disposed of the bodies, because damn, Lloyd’s body-dumping was never found by police forces, or any other people, for that matter, and now you are equally tempted to throw this kidnapper beneath the Westside Pier too.

If only you weren’t tied up like a lamb for slaughter.

“Vaguely.” You pretend to think, tilting your head to the side, even though the back of your shirt is soaked with your cold sweat, “Is he in trouble?”

Hell, Brewer is more than “in trouble”. He’s more like “in crocodile”. His body parts could be swimming along with those hideous beasts, travelling hundreds of miles apart from each other, as you speak.

Somehow, the phrase “in crocodile” has you close to smiling. Especially in this circumstance. Fuck. You are most definitely contaminated by Lloyd Fucking Hansen. You bite the inside of your cheek from actually smiling. As a result, you accidentally bite on your wound.

It stings like a bitch.

The man in front of you speaks softly, “Suza is my brother. And your boss, Lloyd Hansen, killed him.”

This is not going to end well.

You pray to whatever deity that would answer, and hope that you could have a better ending than the Brewer guys. If not, then at least a quick, painless death.

The man observes your face for any expression that could slip away some info, but eventually, he sighs and continues, “So, I decided that I would avenge him, by taking away Lloyd’s most prized possession.”

Ah. Lloyd’s most prized possession would be his gun. He’d spend an hour every day wiping it spotless with a fine cloth, counting the bullets in his gun before popping the magazine back in place. You have heard about a few of the henchmen joking that Lloyd would be more pissed if a man touches his gun, compared to touching his dick,

You have seen the gun on many occasions. Most of the times on his belt, occasionally in his hand, and once, only once on the table when he was dismantling it. But he quickly put it back together seeing you with the pile of paperwork and shoved it back on his belt. Twice, if you are counting the time when he nearly bleeds out in your home.

“Aaaaaaand you want to ask me what his prized possession is?” You pipe up.

That’d be easy. However, you doubt what this Brewer brother had in mind could be this plain and straight.

As far as you know, Lloyd doesn’t have any siblings, parents to account for (he was adopted by a gang member around five, who died in an alley fight a decade later), women that he’d ride or die for (he picks different escorts when he’s in the mood, no one, in particular, meets his eyes), or any offsprings (then your job would be more nanny than a secretary). In fact, you wrecked your brain for the answer to this question, and the truth is, that Lloyd doesn’t care about anyone in any way – apart from the men (and women) working for him. Even so, his expression of “caring” is to drop a generous check if any of them was taken out or quit voluntarily, and never pay attention to them again.

He doesn’t have any pets, neither a dog nor a goldfish to keep him company.

You wonder whether he harbors any feelings at all, except the thrill of being a sociopath.

… maybe he loves his gun in a romantic way, who knows.

“No. I got that part.” Brewer No.2 speaks with a wild glint in his eyes, “And she’s sitting right in front of me.”

You huff out a laugh. This could be the top 1 joke of the Hansen Government Services, that Lloyd sees you as his prize? Pfft.

But the man’s determent tone tells you differently. That he believes Lloyd cherishes you the most. Which means he is going to take you away.

“Don’t believe me?” He shrugs, “My intel snapped pictures of a file, hidden in his top drawer, on top of every shit he has.” Showing the pictures he has on his phone, he added, “You were on that file, Ms. Secretary.”

It was Lloyd’s desk. Dimly-lit, but still, Lloyd’s desk. Someone could burn that desk down to ash and you’d still recognize it. And the file laid bare. With a CV and a photo…

Oh no. Oh shit. It is you.

You’d be lucky as hell if Brewer No.2 simply told you something bad about Lloyd and gave you some money to run far away, as if this is some bullshit mob romance novel. In this situation, he is more likely to skin you alive and send your fingers in a FedEx package to Lloyd’s doorstep as a Christmas present. Or pull out your fingernails before shooting you in the head. Or torture you in the most painful ways possible. Oh God.

The fucking Brewer family and both of these men could go straight to Hell strapped on rabid Cerberus with burning white-hot iron shoes that could not come off.

Think. Think! He hasn’t killed you yet. Why he hasn’t killed you yet? You could be more deader than Suza Brewer who was stuck at the bottom of the pier right now. Why is this Brewer No.2 keeping you alive? What does he want from you besides to intimidate Lloyd?

You have no choice but to ask, “I’m guessing that, since I haven’t got a bullet between my eyes, you want something else too?”

A wicked grin perks up his lips. Handing his phone to your face, he says, “I want you to call him.”

Forget dental care, you now hope Lloyd could pay for a decent funeral.

Brewer No.2 dials the number for you and puts it on speaker. Your heart thumping in your ears, praying that he’d answer. But also praying that he won’t. What if it’s a larger trap to lure him here? You’d rather he doesn’t pick up and get it over with. Plus, he’s too busy to pick up calls, he’s negotiating with the Russians-

“Who’s this?” Lloyd’s sharp voice pierces through the speaker, and seems to have gripped your throat tightly.

Brewer No.2 urges you to speak, but turns out he’s too hyped up to wait for your mumbling lips to make a sound. He drags his tone almost annoyingly, “Hello, Hansen. I’m Levi Brewer, brother of Suza Brewer. I’m here to collect a debt.”

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”

That’s so un-Lloyd-like. He’d normally end the call until the person on the other end of the phone could learn to speak what they want directly, which you have witnessed a few dozen times. You can almost imagine Lloyd’s unamused face and his killing glare, having had to deal with Brewer No.2, Levi Brewer.

“You, Mr. Hansen, killed my brother, which is why I’m taking the love of your life away from you.” Brewer No.2 announces, pulling out his gun to flip the safe off. The crisp clicking noise is like a heavy punch to your stomach, declaring the clock of your life ticking towards its end.

Jesus. You? The love of Lloyd’s life? You could’ve sworn Lloyd has a deeper bond to that escort named Cherry than you.

“Say hello to the pretty little thing I’ve just captured.” Brewer slams his palm across your face, squeezing a yelp out of your tightened throat.

The only “pretty” thought about you is that you are pretty sure you are neither “little”, nor “thing”, but that’s a debate settled for another time.

“Say your name, beautiful. I’m sure your boss would catch up soon.” Brewer No.2 points the gun to your face, and places the phone near your lips.

No matter how reluctant you are, you know this might be the only chance where you can tip Lloyd off. And maybe, just maybe he’d revenge on Tweedle Dee by allowing Dee – Brewer No.2 share the same fate as his brother. “Evening, Mr. Hansen.” You mumble, the taste of iron roots deeply in your mouth that you cannot speak clearly, “Sorry to disturb you.”

Lloyd doesn’t reply. He must be mad. Deeply mad at you for ruining his negotiation with the Russians.

Russian? Fuck, the Russian in the room – you spare a quick glance at the silent bulk of beard in the corner – shit, they were in on it together. The Russian mobs asked Lloyd to give you up – nonono, it can’t be, Lloyd wasn’t that good at acting, and considering Levi is sharing this news that you were kidnapped just now, he could be plotting with the Russians.

Does Lloyd know? Your head is messing with your thoughts. Does he know about your abduction? Was he permitting this to happen?

No. Brewer works against Lloyd, which means Lloyd couldn’t have known.

Who should you trust? Was Lloyd generous enough to give you up? Even though he declined Suza Brewer’s deal: you for the business? And fed him to the sharks because he disrespected you?

… probably crocodiles, but who cares at this point.

“Are you hurt?” Lloyd asks.

“Not really.” The tip of your tongue presses against the wound in your mouth, eliciting pain to clear your head – desperate measures for desperate times – and you continue, “I was wondering, though. I think two teeth of mine are loose. Does the employee benefit cover dental care?”

Think, think, think! How can you pass on the message?

Before Lloyd can answer, you take a head start, “Must be one of those Alenka … Alonka Chocolate bars?”

Last Christmas, the Russian mobs sent over a basket of those chocolate bars, Lloyd ordered to have them tested (in case there was poison) and gave them to his employees after they came out clean. But that was about a year ago, and Lloyd saw the wrapping papers in the basket near your seat right before the day ended. He joked about “eating with the enemy” while you admitted the chocolate was not half bad.

There. The message. Loud and clear.

“The dental plan gives you a 10% discount,” Lloyd says calmly. Which is a big fat lie, because no dental plan would be so petty. He wants to say something about 10. But about what? Ten minutes until he’s here? He’d bring ten men along?

“But I won’t tolerate tardiness, sunshine,” Lloyd’s voice sends a shiver down your spine, “Your working hours are nine am to eight pm. Don’t you dare be late.”

Holy Mary and Joseph. First ten, now nine and eight? Lloyd is about to tear this place down in less than ten seconds.

“Enough chitchat.” Brewer No.2 takes the phone back and aims his gun at your face again, “Say your goodbyes. Lloyd Hansen, you are about to hear her final words.”

“My final words?” You lean back onto the chair, steadying yourself with your feet as much as possible, “You really talk too much.”

A loud blast erupts from where the silent Russian is standing. He is most definitely covered in a few dozen kilos of rubbles and bricks. Levi instinctively covers his head, but the blast knocks him to the ground, where he stays unconscious. You are the only one with enough preparations to lower your body, even though being tied to the chair. But you still get thrown over by the blast and the chair collapses underneath your body.

A few henchmen armed to the teeth step through the hole in the wall. After them, Lloyd.

Lloyd in a black coat.

Your ears are ringing, and you can’t tell what he’s trying to say.

Another man with a black briefcase comes to your side. Your pupils were examined, your pulse was checked, and your lungs were listened to.

“… you feel any pain?” The other man asks you.

You shake your head. It hurts a bit in your mouth but that’s just a little cut.

“She’s alright.” The man who appears to be a doctor confirms, helping you up from the ground.

You stand on wobbly legs. The past hour has been too much of a scare that your knees are shaking. You trip over your own feet, before a pair of solid arms steadies you.

“Easy tiger.” Lloyd’s voice booms by your ear, having your head snap in his direction.

He came.

Oh God he came.

Knowing this was a semi-trap, but he didn’t need to be here. He could wait until this is over and give you a proper burial.

And you could’ve died. He could’ve died. You both could’ve died.

You stumble into his embrace, fingers clenching his thick woolen coat.

You probably shouldn’t. He’s your employer, your boss. He’d probably sue you for sexual harassment. But you did.

The blood soars in your ears. You dare not breathe out loud, fearing that you are dreaming.

It feels like a dream. It all did.

“ ’s alright. It’s alright now.” Lloyd murmurs. He runs a hand down your spine, inching your head close to his shoulder.

“How-How did you find me so soon?” Among everything, this is the one you were the most curious about. Yet you dare not look at him. Even if he has just saved your life.

Lloyd narrows his eyes. If you were any other girl, you’d be crying and weeping, and wiping snot on his coat, telling him how much you wanted to be with him the moment you thought you were dying. But no. You were not any other girl.

Fuck.

Long story short, he doesn’t want to elaborate, for you have plenty of time to discuss about this later, “Noticed there was something wrong with the Russians. Then your doorman called.”

“My doorman?” You raise your head to look at him, your brows furrow in confusion, “The guy at the residence entrance? Henry?” While your fingers slowly untangling from his coat.

“He had my number – I’m the last tenant of that condo – told me your pizza came and he couldn’t reach you,” Lloyd explains as simply as possible.

Ah yes. You ended your work around 7pm and ordered pizza…

You make a mental note to thank Henry for saving your life.

A groan drifts to your ear. You turn around on instinct, as Levi Brewer regains his senses.

“Where… I… What…”

In a split second, Lloyd pulls out his gun to shoot him twice in the chest.

A scream gets stuck in your throat, when the crimson blooms in Brewer’s chest.

Your body is shaking, trembling - a natural fear towards the predator behind you.

Brewer crumbles to the ground.

Lloyd lets out a sigh. He puts his arm around you, guiding your hand towards a piece of lukewarm metal. The metal that has just shot Brewer in the chest.

“You have no idea how to shoot, do you?” He asks, but doesn’t expect you to answer. It is a miracle that you are not fainting, he had hoped for far less before arriving.

Wrapping your index finger around the trigger, Lloyd takes a deep breath before flipping off the safe.

“Eye.” He lifts your chin in the direction of Brewer on the ground.

“Arm.” One of his hands steadies your shaking arm into a stable angle.

“Mark.” He lowers the gun point to Brewer’s forehead.

His warm chest against your back, blocking every possible way of escaping. The familiar feeling of having your throat in his hands creeps up your neck, making it difficult for you to breathe.

Your heart thumping loudly, your breath as shallow as it can be, as the warm air coming out of his mouth reaches your ears.

“Aim for the head. And shoot.”

He curls his finger next to yours, and your finger hits the trigger.

The gun is well-positioned, allowing the bullet to dive into Brewer’s forehead, leaving a round of crimson around the bullet hole.

You spin on your heels immediately, fighting the hurling stomach deep down.

The hard piece of metal comes between you and Lloyd.

A gun.

Lloyd’s gun.

You just used a gun to kill someone.

You are never getting a decent job anywhere in the world.

You are going to keep this skeleton in your closet forever (and of course, working for Lloyd until the day you die).

The cold metal burns your palm. You remember about the jokes that Lloyd never allows anyone to touch his gun.

“I… This belongs to you.” You shove the gun into his hands, as if this is some beast that would bite your fingers off if you keep it for one more second.

Lloyd snorts when his prized gun is pushed into his hands. But he doesn’t say another word. He clasps the gun back on his belt before ordering his men to leave.

You follow his troop out of the building in silence. The past hour has been a series of roller-coaster events that you need some time to process.

Denny is waiting in the car when you climb in. While the rest of Lloyd’s men get in a van, Lloyd barks a few orders to them that you haven’t paid attention to. You sit in the car, your back rigid, and you put your hands on your knees like a pupil in class.

Denny offers a sympathetic smile when your eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. He isn’t the type to talk, serving as Lloyd’s driver. But he’s nice enough to hand you a bottled water from the glove compartment, which you take with a murmured “thanks” and clench it with your knuckles turning white.

The adrenaline fades from your blood system, and your heart beats in a stable rhythm, your breathing finally adjusts itself to slow inhales and exhales.

The bruises on your wrists and ankles are scorching in pain. The back of your head is hurting too. Luckily, none of your bones is broken, which could be the best news of this evening.

This feels way too familiar.

As Lloyd opens the car door, your heart jumps to your throat again.

You are worried. Worrying about he’d fire you, thinking you have leaked information to the Brewer guy. Worrying about you have touched his gun, using it to kill someone, no less, and he’d cut off your hand for using it. Worrying about Lloyd would be dead if he steps into a trap with you as bait, that Levi Brewer intended to kill him…

Why the fuck are you worrying about Lloyd? He’s perfectly fine taking care of himself. It is you who needs extra self-defense lessons.

“What… Um, what happened to the truce you went to negotiate with the Russians?” You can’t help but ask, knowing that the dead Russian who kidnapped you was dragged out of the rubbles and put into a body bag, heading in another direction on the van that had Lloyd’s men on it.

“It was a trick,” Lloyd grumbles, “to stall. We agreed upon no phones, so it took me a while to get the call from that doorman. Then I knew they were trying to stall me from getting to you.”

You were whacked when you had just picked up the drycleaning for Lloyd. “-my car, and my – your clothes -” You remember.

“-were taken care of.” He picks up where you left off, “I’m assigning you an assistant, Claire. She’s living next door. She has driven your car back to the garage, and sent the clothes to dry cleaning as well.”

“An assistant? I don’t need an assistant.” You argue, “I can work fine on my own.”

“And get knocked out on the street in the middle of the night?” Lloyd snorts impatiently, “She’s there to protect you, but ask her to pick up the coffee, take out the trash, and drive the car for you, I don’t care. Claire would be by your side when I’m not close enough to save your ass.”

Ah. So you are a liability to him.

Maybe you weren’t suitable for a mob secretary at all.

You were no prized possession, as Brewer claimed to be.

And he’s your boss. You should feel lucky to be alive instead of mulling over whether he treats you special or not.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You collect your feelings. It is perfectly normal for him to assign you a bodyguard/assistant. Hell, it’s even perfectly normal that he wants to fire you for your incompetence. Hiring an assistant? He doesn’t want you to get kidnapped again, that’s all.

… or replace you when she gets the gist of your job.

You think bitterly, staring at the tinted window.

“By the way, you don’t have to come to work tomorrow.” Lloyd casually tells you, “Paid leave, and it’s Friday anyway, you deserve some time off after this …” He carefully considers the choice of words, “… incident.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hansen.” You reply automatically.

It is such a weird thing that you let out a small exhale of relief when you heard the word “paid leave”, as if he would’ve thrown you off the car and told you that you are fired right after saying you don’t have to come to work.

Lloyd isn’t so ruthless after all.

Your heart beats faster, hopeful for …

What are you hopeful for?

You kick the ridiculous thought into the corner of your mind, answering, “I’ll be back on Monday.”

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[mobydyke]

the scariest part of the terror book imo is when they casually mention a symptom of scurvy that is totally normal to them in-world, but provides frightening additional context to everything I'm witnessing them go through. like when they're already describing the horrors of dragging thousands of pounds of weight across icebergs that resemble small mountain ranges and lightning storms and the temperature never rising above -60° and being stalked and hunted by a supernatural creature, and then your narrator will offhandedly mention "my one remaining tooth" or "the perpetual blisters on your face and upper body from the sun" or the cut on their leg from 3 weeks ago that is still bleeding and you're like. oh! I'm sorry I forgot that in addition to the starvation and the exhaustion and the beast and the terrors of the arctic, you are also all slowly being killed by an incredibly painful and merciless illness! ouch!!!!

[yesimwriting]

Hi there!

If you accept requests, could you write a Halloween themed fic about y/n, Billy and Stu?

Like them going out to choose their costumes and decorating Stu’s house for a party, stuff like that

Hope you are doing well! Thank you very much ☺️

A/n omg i loveee holiday fics and halloween <3

----

You're staring down an aisle of plastic faces etched into neon bases. The differences between them are superficial, just a variety of colors and two or three alternainge expressions. Nothing distinct enough to warrant this level of analysis and yet...

You decide on one from the top shelf. Orange with simple triangle eyes and a double toothed smile. A classic.

You place your chosen plastic pumpkin into the cart that's slowly but surely being filled up by Halloween decor that's only somewhat cheesy. Okay, to be fair, the contents of your pile range in their levels of cheesiness...but still, mostly non-cheesy and perfectly fitting for a classic Halloween, high school rager.

"Really?"

There's nothing about Billy's voice that's worth getting. No soft lilt to indicate teasing or harshness to imply actual judgement. It's the factualness of the statement that leaves you doubting your choice, even though nothing about this is that deep. "What?"

Billy lets out a partial sigh, irritated by the way that fondness pinches his chest. There's something soft about your question, like his opinion on your choice of decorations could actually crush you. It soothes that part of him that's always searching for a reason to believe that those around him are flighty. "You just--you spent so much time looking and then you picked the orange one."

Shrugging, you place a hand on the side of the cart. "I was deciding."

"You picked the poster child of pumpkins." A pointless stance for a pointless argument. You beam at him and Billy starts to feel a little less ridiculous for entertaining this.

Still smiling, you start, "Pumpkins have poster children?"

"Hey, sweetheart." Stu appears halfway down the aisle.

You blink, instinctually squeezing the side of the cart tighter in your shock. For someone so larger than life, Stu can move quietly when he wants to. "Stu." Carefully, and only somewhat halfheartedly, you try to shrug him off. "Did you at least find the cups?"

Stu lifts his free arm, showing you the plastic covered set of solo cups. "You give me a job, babe, I get it done."

Billy rolls his eyes, "Since when?"

Stu scoffs, fingers pressing into your upper arm a little more firmly. "Since Y/n asked." His hand shifts up and down your arm. "Maybe if you looked like her, I'd listen to you."

There's nothing inherently wrong with the gesture, but there's an undertone of stiffness in his touch. That paired with the way Stu's attention remains on Billy makes you feel a little more like a prop than equal participant in the conversation. Deciding to shake off the feeling, you poke Stu's side.

"Ouch." A sound that's forced out much too harshly. Stu retracts immediately, like he's in agony. "What? I was complimenting you."

You roll your eyes. "I barely touched you."

"I'm wounded." He makes a show of clutching his side. "Kiss it better?"

Billy sighs, shifting his attention towards you, "We can't take him anywhere."

You nod understandingly, "We really can't."

Stu scoffs, offended, "Fuck you guys."

"We're kidding." Your concession comes quicker than usual, but you really don' mind giving in to keep the peace right now.

Today has been fun in that simple way that people forget about around middle school. Stu had called last night and mentioned something about wanting to up his party game for Halloween and a few things about decorations. He insisted that he couldn't go with just Billy because Billy has the decorative taste of someone that's color blind. Even though that's the strangest insult you've ever heard, it made you laugh and you agreed to tag along to cancel out any potential color vision deficiency.

They picked you up the next morning, swinging by your usual coffee place before stopping by a grocery store and then finally, the Halloween pop up store.

"You can't be mad," you mumble, "I need your held defending my pumpkin." Stu blinks, a little too surprised and confused to know how he wants to react. You gesture towards the cart as if that should answer everything. "Billy called it basic."

"I said you spent a long time looking at different pumpkins just to pick the orange one."

Stu turns his head, giving you a look that makes it clear that he has no idea how you've been putting up with this. "It's a classic."

"Thank you."

Billy's eyebrows pinch together. He's aware that there are few things you could say that Stu would publicly disagree with, but there's nothing to oppose. "I didn't--" He sighs again, giving in, "You should get a friend."

You tilt your head slightly in a way that's hard to read. "I'm not eight." Even though your tone leans towards argumentative, you walk towards the shelf and grab another orange pumpkin. This one's eyes are ovals, not triangles, and its dark smile is more lopsided and smaller. A variant that sticks close to the source material. "Two does look better, though."

With the pumpkin debacle settled, Billy begins to push the cart forward. You and Stu remain about two steps ahead of it, pointing out different decorations from time to time, most of them unserious suggestions.

"What do I have to do to get you in this?"

That sentence, coming from Stu, is enough to make you scared to turn around. The only reason you eventually do is because you can't justify staring at the wall that's stocked with costume add ons--fangs of both the glow in the dark and regular variety, cellophane wings, horn and halo headbands. You're also painfully aware of the fact that the more you resist and fluster, the more Stu will commit to his bit.

So you force yourself to remain casual as you look behind you. He's holding up a prepackaged angel costume that makes you feel like you're offending some religion by just looking at it. A corset top, small, frilly skirt, and white fishnets. It's not so much that makes the costume feel like something that belongs on stage at a failing Vegas show, it's the material and the styling.

"Uh..." In a way, you're glad that he decided to make the joke about something so blatantly not an option, because there's no way he's serious. It makes joking back easier, a little safer. "...Have a roll of one's ready?"

He doesn't miss a beat, "Deal."

Now that sounded a lot more genuine. You blink, struggling to hold your ground. Instinctually, your attention flits towards Billy.

"You should've known what he'd do with a stripper joke."

It's only a partial out, but you appreciate it greatly, "I have no one to blame but myself."

Stu scoffs. "I'm not that predictable."

You and Billy exchange a look. Stu pouts, turning enough to hang the plastic packaging back on its metal hook.

Instead of reminding him that if anyone should be offended about that last joke it should be you, you decide to shift focus. Your attention falls on the consistently growing contents of the cart. It might be a little much, but Stu's house is large. You'd need this many things to make the whole space feel decorated.

"You think we're good or are we missing something?"

Billy tilts his head downwards, taking an unofficial inventory of the cart's contents. It's more for your sake than actual interest. "You didn't get the lights. The twinkly ones."

There's something about hearing Billy say the word twinkly that's more entertaining than it should be. You smile despite yourself. "Say twinkly again."

He glowers, "No."

Billy starts pushing the cart, nearly running over your toes. You bounce back quickly, holding onto the side of the cart like a little kid as you follow him forward. "Why not?"

"The way you asked."

Rude. "He's no fun."

Stu turns his head just enough to look back at the two of you, "Billy?" His hand latches onto the front of the cart. Now, all three of you are clinging to the shopping cart like pre-schoolers that use those plastic rings to stick together. "He's moody."

The comment is meant to dig at you. "I didn't say that."

You'd never say that. If anything, oversimplifying Billy like that is one of your pet peeves. He likes to come off as a little closed off, but it's not such a basic teenage boy thing on him. You've never said anything explaining your defensiveness...you don't even think you'd be able to put it into words, but with Billy, any pretext of angst feels like a type of shield.

"He's just above entertaining me now."

Billy's eyebrows draw together sharply. "Now?"

Reaching the end of the aisle, Billy starts to turn the cart. It's a little awkward to make it around the corner without anyone releasing the cart, but you manage. "We all have to out grow our friends at some point."

"Mhm," he hums dryly, "Especially the dramatic ones."

Eyes widening, you turn on your heels to glare at him. He keeps his head angled downwards, a few strands of hair falling forward to hide the brunt of his reaction. That doesn't stop you from seeing part of his smug smile. If Billy's casualness wasn't always welcomed, you'd likely be a little more annoyed.

"The you that corrected the barista that misheard my coffee order before I could would have never spoken to me like that."

"That was this morning."

You shrug off his response, deciding that a comment about simpler times would over extend the bit. You're in the right aisle now, anyway, shelves full of decorations that require hooks or nails or something else to keep them attached to the wall.

Stu wanders away from the cart, picking up a cardboard box that displays a picture of purple lightbulbs strung up on a suburban house. "These?"

You shake your head. "Too bright, I think they're meant for outside." Stepping towards the shelves, you pick up a rolled up cord of smaller, darker purple lights and another set of boxed lights. "You need... mood lighting."

The cord for the boxed ones are way too long for a living room or kitchen and the bulbs seem way too bright and project a harsh, unflattering orange in their picture. The label on the other set says that they alternate between dark blue and purple and the bulbs are shaped like stars. Definitely a winner.

You look up, ready to say as much, but the words cram their way back down your throat before you can. Stu's closer than you realized, a lot closer than you ever expected him to be.

"Mood lighting?" You know that dropping your head and backing away would only make this worse. Stu likes to know when he's getting something. "What's the exact mood?"

He's grasping at straws in an attempt to fluster you. While mood lighting may hint at something suggestive, it's obvious that you meant the kind of chill, dim lighting that makes people comfortable yet energized. Party lighting. You should say that, laugh off his proximity and his energy. But for whatever reason, you can't quite think.

You press your lips together. "Exact mood," you repeat, still a little unsure, "I had more of a general mood idea."

Stu takes a partial step forward before extending his hand. He takes the wound cord, gently pulling it from your fingers. Slowly, he undoes the thick twist tie holding the cord together. You watch, more curious than you'd like to admit as he unravels it. With no warning, Stu pulls the string of lights over your shoulders.

He takes his time adjusting the string of lights over your shoulders. "I get what you mean."

Warmth you don't get crawls up your neck. It has to be about looking weird in a secluded, but still public, aisle. You tilt your head, trying to ignore that feeling you can't name. "You're tangling them."

"They're fine," he dismisses easily, twisting a part of the cord between his fingers. "We'll get Billy to untangle them later."

You laugh at that. Stu frees you from the confines of the string lights. Billy throws a look at Stu as he halfheartedly rolls up the lights before dropping them in the cart.

"So I'm un-fun and the light de-tangler."

You walk towards him before Billy can fully start pushing the cart again. "I take it back." You reach forward and squeeze his forearm without thinking twice about it. "You're fun." Billy briefly stiffens, gaze trained on what's directly in front of him. "Sometimes."

Billy hates the wave of fondness that that's trying to crawl its way out of his chest. "Like when I'm untangling string lights?" It's meant to be sarcastic in that biting, casually detached way.

If the shift in tone bugs you, you give no indication of it as you smile at him. "And some other times."

[sixoclocker]

God ok I love the Starlo red giant star thing I need need NEED to know how the heck the people of the Wild East would react to the whole thing. Like, the obscure ones who aren't main characters but do know Star, like Virgil or Blackjack or Dina or something. Because they interact with Star semi-regularly I think and its nice and all to see the reactions of the ones closest to him, but everyone else? God thats just super interesting to me

Oh this is longer than I thought. Whatever thats fine.

EEEP i love talking about this tysm for asking about it. i’ll do the ones you specifically asked about

virgil isn’t exactly filling his role out anymore considering the sheriff who he was playing the villain against is. like that. but i think he pretty regularly if kinda awkwardly checks up on him, and i think star likes to talk about what he would’ve liked to do if it wouldn’t risk his health or anything. stuff he would’ve liked to do yk?? virgil feels kinda bad about it bc he frets that he may have egged him on a bit too much by playing into a lot of his antics. it sucks. it’s not a good situation for anybody. but starlo talks abt it to distract himself mostly although it ends up getting back to the fact that they can’t do that bc it’s too risky. so that kinda sucks.

blackjack is much more willing to let the guy into his shop now which is great and all. he’s not ENTIRELY thrilled seeing starlo so unusually quiet but hey!! now he can help with making stuff bc he can heat things up!! uh he DOES still ‘borrow’ stuff from him tho to give to his posse as a thank you of sorts. blackjack doesn’t appreciate that part but since he helps him make stuff now he only charges him 3/4 the price or something LMAOOO.

dina is. NOT happy. at all. because north star is different and he’s definitely not happy about it either. i think he had to fight tooth and nail jsut to get a drink one time after it happened because she was worried it would make things worse. and it might. but he gets some some times if he asks enough or something. but yeah dina is worried about him and if he doesn’t show up she goes and actively seeks him out. she’ll still entertain his little antics, albeit on a much smaller scale, but she’s definitely jsut. augh. ouch. a lot of things keep falling apart with the entire gang and she’s just trying to make it through

[dmercer91]

ebug's sister, dm91

taglist, @whenmypartysover

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven

this is after the devs were eliminated!

blakefriarr_

liked by seamuscasey26, markestapa and 7,394 others

blakefriarr_: posting this to inform you all that you're legally obligated to facetime me twice a month during the offseason

not to be gross or whatever but thanks for making my life better

<3

view 745 comments..

nicohischier: why. of all the pictures

→ blakefriarr_: excellent question! i raise you this: why not

adamfantilli: i had to share my slide with molly? preposterous

→ blakefriarr_: maybe if you'd stop letting your phone die all the time she wouldn't be the only reason you have sign of life

→ adamfantilli: buy me a charger

→ blakefriarr_: it's on its way to soph house as we speak i'll get mark to bring it to you

→ adamfantilli: the ten foot ones? → blakefriarr_: of course

→ adamfantilli: sick

jackhughes: i got a better picture than nico i feel honoured

→ blakefriarr_: i almost chose the one you sent me after you lost your tooth but then i found the picture of gravy and lukey needed a slide

→ jackhughes: the end result is all that matters (i feel significantly less honoured)

seamuscasey26: "which fantilli brother is your favourite?"

→ blakefriarr_: "that depends on which one of them is currently sitting right next to you" → luca.fantilli: and then she said adam

→ blakefriarr_: and then i said adam <3

dawson1417: who am i flipping off there

→ blakefriarr_: probably jj

→ jj.friar31: probably me

jj.friar31: you're welcome for being solely responsible for introducing you indirectly to every single one of your friends

→ blakefriarr_: this was 99% me you just happen to play for a nearby college

→ jj.friar31: ok but if i didn't play for a nearby college this wouldn't have happened

→ blakefriarr_: that does not change the fact that you have the personality of drywall

dawson1417: oh hey by the way

→ blakefriarr_: yes dawson

→ dawson1417: imagine if like i didn't need to facetime you cause you'd be with me

→ dawson1417: for the whole summer

→ blakefriarr_: interesting concept

→ dawson1417: that didn't sound like a complete no

→ blakefriarr_: so you know how i was working overtime the last two weeks

→ dawson1417: vividly remember wanting to call in sick on your behalf

→ blakefriarr_: what if i said that was cause i was training the two new hires they got to replace me

→ dawson1417: you're not fucking with me right now right

→ blakefriarr_: about the two people to replace one me thing?? i know that's nuts, right?

→ dawson1417: NO

→ dawson1417: ABOUT THE QUITTING YOUR JOB, B

→ blakefriarr_: no need to yell, baby

→ dawson1417: blake, baby, sweetheart, love of my life i almost made jack crash his car from how hard i slapped his arm there are a plethora of reasons to yell

→ blakefriarr_: <3

ryangraves27: every time i'm not running you get closer

→ blakefriarr_: did you take this from the ed sheeran meme

→ blakefriarr_: gravy my boy you're better than that

→ ryangraves27: it felt like it fit at the time

dougieham: oh

→ blakefriarr_: you inspire me hamstring

→ dougieham: ..oh

→ blakefriarr_: i couldn't really tell but that oh sounded delighted

markestapa: no photo creds for the eddy pic??? ouch

→ blakefriarr_: it is technically my screenshot you were just facetiming me

→ markestapa: i still can't believe i picked up the phone at a party just cause it was you

→ blakefriarr_: i am so universally loved and appreciated

→ markestapa: it's unfortunate, actually

edwards.73: why was i so excited

→ blakefriarr_: i'm pretty sure i heard mark scream that it was me on the phone and you yelled like a caveman

→ edwards.73: that checks

_quinnhughes: and just like that my 23 year no facetime photos streak has ended

→ blakefriarr_: in your defence what i said was fucking hilarious

read more comments..

[geordikisser]

PART 2: pregame: the smash tournament

☆ a/n: gender neutral language, suggestive language + domestic life. ☆

parings: david + angel, milo + sweetheart, asher + baaabe + sam + darlin' & lovely + vincent [ different povs for each ]

☆⃞ previous parts ┆1 :3

babe, angel, darlin’ and sam all approached the door. sweetheart already eager with milo besides them. “can we go?” they chirp eagerly. darlin’ giggles as they grab their coat from sweetheart. “uh-hm!” darlin’ smiles in response as they begin to unbutton their shirt. sams eyes widening. “jesus on a stick darlin’!” he gasped as he immediately jumps to cover them. their brow raising. “huh? o—oh right!!” they snort as they immediately re-button up their shirt. “forgot our company, my fault.” as they awkwardly scratch their neck. babe chuckling along side with angel.

as darlin’ made their way out the door, the others could hear the transformation in the process. milo was holding sweethearts hands as they jumped around excitedly. milo’s brows furrowing at them. “acting like you never rode a werewolf before.” he mutters in a low tone to sweetheart. sweethearts smile dropping within an instant. sam couldn’t help but chuckle in response to milo’s jealousy. darlin’ lets out a bark as they walk up to the front door, everyone taken aback. “always forget how big your wolf form is.” angel admits as they pet their fur. “and how soft your fur is.” darlin’ nuzzling into the touch as they lower themselves for babe & angel. babe squealing as they gently mount darlin’ along side with angel. darlin’, with ease lifts themselves up without any trouble.

“jesus. that’s some core strength for ya.” milo cringed, feeling the back pain for darlin’. darlin’ sticking their tongue out, indicating their smile. milo throws off his coat and tosses it to sweetheart. “tryna get a ride with your big strong man?” he smirks as he bares his snag tooth to them. sweetheart biting their lip followed up with a smile. “i got a better idea.” they giggle as they slip on milos coat and picks up milo. milo yelping as they are gone down the street in an instant. sam watching them zip away in the distance, milo’s cries for help following. sam chuckling as he scratches behind darlin’s ear. “you take care of yourself. don’t over do it. we’ll meet you there.” he smiles as darlin’ licks his wrist in response. sam is gone within an instance as darlin’ begins to trot away.

sweetheart and milo make it there first then sam is short to accompany them. milo saw stars and what remained above as sweetheart was just having fun as their boyfriend was loosing the light behind his eyes. “is he dead?” sam asked with a smirk. sweetheart analyzing milo for a quick second and shrugging. “probably.” they giggle as they drop milo. milo letting out a grunt as his butt hit the floor. sam laughs as he helps milo up, looking around the quad. most places were closed around this hour of night so finding an open subway here would be less than likely. “sam?” a familiar voice calls out as he whips his head to see vincent! and his mate besides him. “vincent, haven’t seen you for a minute.” sam chuckles as they shake hands. “and you. how you been.” sam asked with a smile. lovely sighs as they shrug. “how would you be if your boyfriend hated you.” they pout as vincent grips the bridge of his nose. sam laughs nervously, looking at vincent confused. “did i—?,, miss something?,,” he asked vincent as he shakes his head.

“lovely, just because i wouldn’t love you as a caterpillar doesn’t mean anything.” he groans as lovely gasps. “MEANS NOTHING? ok.” lovely begins shuffling their feet across the quad and then back to vincent and then a spark of electricity buzzes throughout vincent’s body. “OUCH— lovely,,!!!” he growls as lovely giggles and gets a head start. “bye sam!! bye milo!! bye sweetcheeks!!” as their electricity burned on across the concrete. “sweetcheeks?” milo growls at sweetheart as they gave a generous smile. “hah?,,” vincent shaking his head. “see-ya sam. got a brat to grab.” he snickers as sam nods. “glad to see you happy, vin.” he smiles. “you as well, i’m dying to meet this mate of yours.” vincent smiles as he waves sam off and is gone within an instant. darlin’ making it over shortly as babe and angel hop off their back. “hey guysss!” babe smiles as angel is wearing one to match.

darlin’ stretches as they began to retransform back. they groan, scratching their neck. “you doing ok?” sam asked darlin’ as they nod. “mhm, they weight nothing.” darlin’ smiles as they stretch to touch their toes. “what’s the plan every-pony?” babe asked as angel has to double take to rehear what they said. “every what?” babe turns their head to angel. “every-pony! like mlp!” babe restates as angel just has this disappointed look upon their face. “alright. where we going?” angel asks as sam thinks. “well i doubt a subway is opened at this hour. so-,,” everyone suddenly fell silent. “hows bout a jersey mikes?” milo suggests as darlin’ jumps to agree quickly. “yes please!! let’s go!! i know everyone’s orders.” they giggle, jumping up and down in pure excitement. “ok darlin’ calm down!” sam chuckles as they grab their hand, only causing darlin’ to grab sam’s hands with both and shake it aggressively. sam taken aback from this began shaking alongside with it. “alright, let’s go then!” babe cheers as the 6 of them walk around the district area to find the subway first. “yep. closed” sam sighs as they find their way to the jersey mikes. barley closing, darlin’ runs inside and begins to order.

sam barely had time to call for them as he sighs with a smitten look on his face. “you’re so corny, sam.” milo smirks as he glares at him. “oh please. let’s go before i say something i regret.” sam rolls his eyes as he slips his coat off, entering alongside with babe & angel, milo & sweetheart following behind shortly. sam slips darlin’ coat over their shoulders, making sure their cozy and warm (& to prevent them from getting a cold,,,) “your total is 78.98$.” the thrilled employee says as darlin’s face truths place. groaning, angel pulls out their card and hands it to the cashier. “thank you, your order is number 68.” handing them the receipt. darlin’ huffs as angel takes the receipt as the two walk away. “i had it covered.” darlin’ pouts as angel rolls their eyes. “like the fear that washed over your face at the total? funnyyy,,” they smirk, shoving darlin’ gently. darlin’ scoffs as they walk towards sam, hugging him closely. sam wrapping a arm around their waist, pulling them in even closer. “miss me already?” he hums sweetly as darlin’ nods. “missed you more, baby.” he kisses their head gently as babe & angel side eyed each-other. “do not start you two.” sweetheart snorts as they burst into laughter.

picking up their orders, babe rummaged through the bag to make sure everything is correct and where it needs to be. “ok, we are ready, wanna head out?” they turn to darlin’ who is asleep in sam’s arms. “i’ll be out with this one, you four will be ok right?” he hums as they nod. “i got this one and you zip around like the—,, fucking time bender you are.” milo gesturing to sweetheart. “got it sugar! we’ll meet you at home?” sweetheart hums as sam is off and away. the four venturing off home. milo and babe begin talking about asher as they walked home. “then, he got his head stuck in a jar,,, never thought id see that ever.” babe snorts as milo has a fucking hoot, almost choking on his sandwich. “when we were younger, asher got stuck on top of our neighborhood tree and when he fell, he rolls down the hill into the lake and turns into a wolf and doggy paddled out.” milo smiles as babe giggles. “sounds about right.” babe sighed as they admired the moon. “asher is so—,, special,,” babe smiles. “yeah, we noticed.” he sneers as babe shoves him. earning a chuckle from the brunette. “oh shut up!! like you’re any better!!” as they arrived home, david is scolding sweetheart and angel for something. “it’s been 35 minutes? what did we miss?” babe asked as angel turns to them slowly. “oh do we have a surprise for you.” they grin, face as pale as darlin’s earlier, maybe even more.

[arctic-hands]

Uhhh one of my teeth just broke and it's Saturday what do I do

[braxiatel]

I’m a miserable and pathetic little creature who went to the bone stealer (dentist) and had a bone stolen (tooth extraction) and all I got were some poky wires (stitches) that hurty (ouch)

Soooo. If anyone wants to send me asks about characters or pets or art or literally just with thoughts about anything I would very much appreciate the distraction <3

[sweet-honey-tears]

💝Gifts To and From💝

A little fun thing about what the boys would give you and what you may give them too. As always spelling is bleh🤍

Request are always welcomed!

Part Two Part Three

🦈Kirishima🦈

Kiri wouldn’t force you to get crocs, but this man will Persuade you- loving of course. He doesn’t care what color you pick, as long as you like them!

Purple, yellow, green- Whatever!

I do feel like he’d buy you the little accessor though so both of you have matching ones. Because they've gotta sell little accessories of heroes for crocs!

So both of you wouldhave like the CrimsonRiot, a Rock, smiley faces, and stuff like that on yours crocs.

He’d think it’s Manley that you both have matching ones and that you got him a little heart for his crocs.

Kiris Lock Screen in a pic of you guys toe to toe both of you wearing croc with matching accessories.

He post it on all social pages, with the captions of:

“Love my pebble”

💣Bakugou💣

Kat would buy you a necklace. It’s simple and straightforward. It’s probably a thin chain with a small charm. More than likely something that’s similar to a firework, skull, grenade or explosion.

You’re his, ya dummy, and he’s marking you as such.

“Hey dumbass! Why aren't you wearing the necklace?”

“It’s right here KitKat!” you pull it out from under your shirt. Kat would scoff, walk up to you and readjust it, making sure the chain is in the right place.

“Keep it out, I want to show people the catch he got.”

He’d probably just keep buying you jewelry randomly. Like necklaces, brackets, rings, earrings. He doesn’t give a shit what you wear- as long as you’re wearing something he gave you.

I feel like somewhere along the lines you get him a necklace too. A simple one with a red fang on it. It’s small, pretty and won’t get in his way. When you give it to him, he’d scoffs and smiles. “Hey TeddyBear” he smiled and points to the exact same one he gave you- it’s hanging from your neck. A 3 year anniversary present.

“Huh. I guess that’s why I liked this one so much!” You chirp and kiss his cheek.

Nex day, you see him wearing it. And then the next and the next and so on.

You’re watching him on the TV, he’s battling some weak villain or something. He’s not wearing the necklace. Which is fine, it’s not a part of his hero costume and if it got thrown upward, the tooth on it could probably hit his face. Ouch.

But after the fight, during an interview, you notice his hands going into his pocket- not unusual- but his right hand is moving. What’s in his pocket? It looks like he’s thumbing something. He keeps breathing in and out as the reporters keep yelling stupid shit at him, the moment in his pocket becoming faster. What in the world?

When he finally breaks away, the reporters(people filming) catches him pulling out a tooth necklace from his pocket, holding it in palm.

⬛️Sero 🟨

Sero buys you clothes

Like the oversized comfy ones you can watch movies in. Probably have some cute graffiti food on them, like a ramen bowl!

Sero has similar style clothes and one of his favorite pictures of you two is both of you wearing baggy shirts with street food designs on them.

At some point in your relationship, he’s getting you a sports bra.

“Looks comfortable, plus it’s your favorite color.”

But that’s kinda small, I have a feeling this man doesn’t buy you his merch to wear, feels kinda embarrassed. So one day, like a year into dating, you buy his mercy, an oversized sweatshirt, and wear it to one of your ‘movie dates’ (you both stay at home, munch on popcorn, and watch a corny movie). His heart melts. His Home Screen is you in that sweet shirt.

You get him a sweatshirt that had this little onigiri in the corner, and on the back is this huge cartoon ramen bowl with your guy's favorite restaurant written under it. The place where he first asked you to be his girlfriend.

His fans end up catching him leaving the gym one day, and one ask him where he got his sweatshirt from-

“Oh, I’m not sure. My amar(love) got it for me. She may have had it custom made for me too.” He laughed, gesturing to his arms. His fans laugh but your heart flutters when you read about the encounter on his fam base later.

⚡️Denki⚡️

Denki would buy you hair stuff.

Dude gets the pain of accidentally eating your bangs when you move and would buy some cutely decorated berets. Probably some lighting bolt ones, and cat ones.

He’d also do a face mask and nails with you too.

His Home Screen is a pick of you laughing, wearing a face mask, a cat headband pushing your hair back, and a cucumber mid motion falling off your face.

Will call you and tell you he found a new nail polish color:

⚡️“Sunshine! I just got this new color called ‘Electric Love’!”

Your Home Screen is a pic of him wearing an orange cat hair pin you got him.

This man also wore it into a battle, forgetting to take it out since he’s always wearing it. 

And if someone, a reporter or fan, asks about it, man has no shame to talk about how he wears them all the time. Yeah, he wear cats and butterfly hair pins, duck off.

⚡️“Oh! My Sunshine Nugget got it for me! We have matching ones too!”

[angelmichelangelo]

mutant mayhem headcanons because i am unhinged here we go:

donnie is a late bloomer (an explanation why he’s the only brother that hasn’t had his voice broken yet) and ofc in true brotherly fashion the others absolutely rip into him about it

raph told mikey once as little kids that the reason his head is shaped like a watermelon is becuase splinter dropped him on his head as a baby and mikey cried so hard he threw up

leo and donnie are HUGE anime fans. they LOVE dragon ball z and once splinter found the live action movie dvd in the trash and brought it home as a surprise and leo and donnie had to pretend they liked it so now raph and mikey tease them both and make them watch it with their dad even though it’s SO painful (and ofc splinter is oblivious lol)

raph got his front tooth knocked out after he was certain he could skateboard across a sewer pipe upside down on his hands (he could not)

mikey and donnie prank call random businesses together they find in the yellow pages and are really good at doing voices

raph is a big fan of jackass. and it shows. he often times ropes mikey into whatever stunt he’s trying to replicate

they all have wrestling personas after watching old WWE together. leo is Consequenzes, raph is The Red Fury, donnie is Bone Crusher 2000 and mikey is Captain Die - they picked them when they were like, 9 and there’s no take backs

mikey and raph spray paint the tunnels together and make some pretty decent art. splinter is fine with it as long as they don’t make anything crude, which, as teenage boys, they absolutely do. there’s a tunnel deep in the sewers that just says ‘BOOBS LOL’

mikey is one of those kids that’s amazing at any school subject, he just doesn’t care for learning so he doesn’t apply himself at all

raph is second most smartest next to donnie. he plays chess with donnie, and he says it’s only because nobody else can or will, but he secretly enjoys it

leo is dyslexic as hell. it frustrates him, as a perfectionist, but his brothers often help him when he’s struggling

splinter made them their weapons! but raph went behind his back and sharpened his sais without him knowing (cos a sai is supposed to be blunt but ended up in donnie’s leg somehow in the trailer so. ouch)

mikey and leo both have braces, leo just wears a nighttime retainer. after raph knocked his tooth out, donnie went about bragging that he had the most perfect teeth out of all his brothers

they’re all HoH (cos their turtles and turtles have terrible hearing above water) which is why they constantly talk loudly and over each other and splinter who has great hearing, because he’s a rat, has to put up with this lol. and they don’t know they’re HoH until later on when they’re older and donnie is like “oooohhhh right yeah that makes sense”

donnie has terrible vision, being shortsighted, he’s tried to create contacts for himself in his prescription for fighting convenience but has been pretty hesitate in creating something that goes inside his eyeballs

they made a band together called Chemical Terrapins even though none of them can play instruments but they do have one of those tiny baby toy keyboards that they found in the trash once and they all fought over who was gonna play it.. until they realised their hands were way too big for the keys lol

leo totally chose the name of the band because he’s an emo kid at heart </3

splinter taught them both english and japanese but they’re not entirely fluent

[your-divine-ribs]

The Christmas Wish Part 2

Words: 2.5k

I’ll get part 3 posted sometime this week… xxx

The Christmas Wish Masterlist Main Masterlist

🤍 Van's POV 🤍

"We both need a pound for the Christmas raffle... and we can't wear our uniforms today, it's Christmas jumper day!"

"You burnt the toast AGAIN! Ughhh I can't eat it!"

"I want braids today Daddy, Maisie said she's going to wear braids and we said we were going to match!"

It's going to be one of those days, I can just tell. My head's spinning and it's not even 8am yet. I gulp the dregs of my tea down and turn to face my children. How can two such angelic beings be so goddamn exhausting?

"C'mon kids, go easy on me, one at a time," I smile weakly at them, digging into the pocket of my skinny jeans and coming out with a handful of fluff. "Damn it, I've not got any change on me... who carries loose change these days anyway?"

"Mummy always does... she has everything we need!" Leo pipes up, his gap-toothed grin faltering as his big sister elbows him harshly in the ribs. "Oww!"

"Hey, hey, what was that for?" I swiftly turn to Grace and she offers me nothing but a shrug. "Gracie... c'mon..." I glare at her pointedly and her little face eventually creases into a sheepish frown, her voice quiet and tentative when she finally speaks.

"I told Leo not to say that stuff about mummy... you know... about how she looks after us better."

Ouch... that stings. I must visibly wince as Grace jumps down off the breakfast bar stool and immediately flings her arms around my waist. "I didn't mean it daddy, I didn't mean it to sound like that. You're the best daddy there is! You're just as good as mummy, you're just different, you do stuff in a different way, that's all."

That's one way of phrasing it...

"It's okay angel, I know what you mean," I sigh, planting a soft kiss in her parting, stroking her hair. "I'm trying my best honey, I really am."

"I know you are daddy."

Leo jumps down too, not wanting to miss out on the opportunity for a cuddle and I envelope him as well, all of us glued together in a big family bear hug in the middle of the kitchen.

"I'll call in to the corner shop on the way to school and get you some change. We don't have Christmas jumpers but Leo... go and grab your felt tips, we can make our own. And Grace... go get your brush, I'll see what I can do."

The kids break away and I run my hands through my hair, taking a deep breath. I'd never imagined that having children would be quite so challenging and relentless, but then again I'd never signed up for this.

Having kids was always my end goal of course, it was my ultimate wish come true, a culmination of everything that I'd worked towards and hard for. I'd been saving for as long as I could remember, squirrelling away a portion of money from touring before we even got signed in preparation for this part of my life. It was supposed to be a good life, a better life. It was supposed to be more meaningful... and it was. I loved them so much it fucking scared me sometimes. It's just that whenever I envisioned this picture-postcard idealised dream I wasn't doing it alone. I was always with somebody, it was a partnership. I was doing it alongside the woman I loved... the mother of my children.

"What are we gonna do with these?"

Leo's enquiring voice breaks me out of my troubled thoughts and I see him standing there holding his pack of brightly coloured felt tip pens aloft.

"You'll see... c'mon take this off." I scoop him up to sit on my knee at the kitchen table, helping him to shrug out of his school uniform jumper. "We don't need no shop-bought naff Christmas jumpers, we'll make our own. They'll be just as good... nah... actually they'll be better... miles better. Now what d'ya want? Santa? Rudolph? A Christmas tree?"

"Rudolph!" Leo laughs, watching me as I spread his jumper out on the table and reach for the pens. "With a big red, shiny nose!"

"Mummy's not going to be happy with you doing that."

I can actually hear my ex-wife's stern tone in my daughter's voice and I can fully imagine the roasting I'll be getting later for ruining the kids' school uniforms. I figure that I'd rather incur her wrath and have two happy children though. It's not like I need to worry about appeasing her anymore, not now that fucking boyfriend of hers has moved in and they're playing happy families. The thought makes my throat feel tight but I swallow down the lump that's arisen, trying to focus instead on the things that I do actually have control over.

"Don't worry about mummy, I'll deal with her. Youse two are gonna be the best dressed kids in school today! Look at that Leo... proper artist at work here. Some mad drawing skills I've got, eh?"

"But it looks like a giraffe!" Leo giggles, pointing at the comical looking reindeer I've drawn on the front of his school jumper. "Reindeers don't have such long necks! And it's got an extra leg!"

"No it's not silly, that's a tail!" Grace chips in. She's giggling now too, reaching for the green felt tip as she announces out loud. "I'm doing a Christmas tree on mine. I'm a really good drawer, Miss Wilson told me so. She's always telling me how bright I am!"

"Brighter than the star on the top of any Christmas tree, eh kiddo?" I grin at her, pride warming me through with a pleasant glow. "So I suppose you'll be getting a good report then will ya when I go to parents' evening after school today?"

Grace freezes at my words, her smile instantly morphing into a worried looking frown, her eyes darting quickly up to me before they're fixed on the table below.

"But it's not parents' evening daddy, not today," she says quietly.

"Oh really?" This is news to me. "So why else would the school office be leaving me a voicemail, asking me to come and see your teacher today after school at 3.30pm?"

It's not very often my daughter's lost for words but she's silent now, shrugging as her lips pull into a flat line. She won't take her eyes off the tabletop, refusing to look me in the eye.

I know that look. I know it all too well. My heart sinks, the pride retreating. Leo starts shaking his head at his sister, tutting whilst wearing a wide smirk.

"You're in big trouble aren't ya? If Santa finds out..."

"Shut up Leo!" She snaps, her cheeks glowing hotly.

"Gracie... is there something you wanna tell me love?"

Yeah... it's definitely gonna be one of those days.

🤍 Sacha's POV 🤍

I can really do without staying behind after class today. With just three weeks to go until Christmas I have a to do list a mile long and I've not even started ticking things off yet. I've been so busy dreaming up festive themed lessons for the school-kids to keep the Christmas magic alive that I've been neglecting my own seasonal plans.

My tree's usually up and decorated by December 1st, the whole house decked out like Santa's grotto, but this year the only thing I've managed to do is haul the tree out of the loft. It's been sitting in my hallway in its box for over a week now, taunting me every time I walk past. I've just been so tired after work I've been favouring lazing on the sofa watching trash TV when really there's a million and one other more productive things I should be doing. I've not even had chance to go shopping yet for the new tree decorations I promised myself that I'd get this year. Maybe I could walk into town this afternoon after this meeting with Grace's dad...

Ughhh the meeting... just the thought of it makes my gut clench with apprehension. It's all good when eager mums and dads are lapping up the praise at parents' evening, proudly beaming whilst I tell them how well behaved and perfect-mannered their sons are or how bright and inquisitive their daughters are. The mood swiftly changes though when I'm breaking the bad news to them that their sweet little cherubs aren't quite as angelic as they think. I'm still fuming about the formal complaint that Ryan Carter's mum tried to raise with the Headmaster when I told her that her son had been bullying the smaller kids in class. She refused to believe that her perfect little blue-eyed boy would ever step out of line and she even had the audacity to tell me that I was victimising him! I could tell that the apple didn't fall far from the tree with that one. She was so rude.

I glance at my watch... 3.36pm. He's late.

I'm trying not to let my pre-conceived ideas of Grace's so-called 'famous rockstar' dad influence my feelings before I've even met him but I just can't help myself. Against my better judgement I'd succumbed to Ellie's teasing in the staff room at lunchtime. She'd waved her phone around excitedly in my face announcing that I was in for a treat later because Grace's dad was, in her words, “a massive dilf".

I can't help but smile as I recall the humorous scene from earlier when I'd told Ellie that talking about the kids' parents in that way was inappropriate. She'd just smirked gleefully at my slack jaw as I'd proceeded to watch a clip of a live performance where Grace's dad was practically making out with the microphone on stage. I couldn't deny he was attractive.

"Told ya so!" She'd grinned, but I was resolute, shaking my head emphatically.

"I don't care if he's cute, I'll bet you any money he's neglecting those kids. I can see it now, Grace has already told me about her parents splitting up. Guys like her dad are all the same, I bet he's full of himself. Bet the lure of fame and money was too tempting for him and he's run off with some model or something!"

"You can't judge a book by its cover!" She laughs but I'm not budging. I know all too well the struggles of having an absent father. Men are so fickle.

Grace has been acting out of character all day, she's been unusually quiet and withdrawn. Any attempts at drawing out her usually cheerful nature have fallen flat. Even the announcement that she'd bagged the role of Mary in the class nativity play didn't have the expected effect, I just got a weak smile and a quiet "thank you Miss." I'm not sure whether she's just nervous about me speaking to her dad about her behaviour or whether there's something more serious going on at home, some underlying issue that's dampening her vivacious demeanour. Either way I'm determined to find out and help in any way that I can.

Ellie says I shouldn't get too involved but I didn't just take this job to teach kids to read and write. I fully feel like I'm helping to shape little lives and instilling good values and helping them to try and make sense of any confusing emotions. I still vividly remember my primary school teachers to this day, more fondly than any of my secondary school teachers and most of the academics at university too. These young years should be the most fun and carefree time of any person's life.

It's 3.45pm now... this doesn't bode well if he can't even be bothered to turn up on time for an appointment to talk about his own child. Maybe he's not going to show up at all. It's not like I ever see him at school pick up time. It's always either Grace's mum or another guy... a family friend I believe even though the kids call him 'Uncle Larry'. In the mornings the kids get dropped off early for breakfast club before I've arrived so I have no idea if he's even set foot near the school before.

I think of Grace and Leo sitting in the school office right now waiting and my heart aches for them. Maybe I should go down and see them? Ask the office to put another call through to the dad? Sighing heavily I get up from my seat and pick up my half-drunk cup of coffee, making for the door.

My head's down as I pull open the door, chuntering to myself about irresponsible parents, completely distracted so that I don't even notice the person who's on the other side. Even if I had the collision would probably be unavoidable. The tall figure's barrelling along that quickly and carelessly that our bodies bump each other's with enough force that I cry out in shock, upending my coffee cup and spilling the contents.

"What the.... Oh... I'm so sorry! My coffee!"

The thankfully not scalding liquid slops out and all over the front of a black suede jacket and I quickly assess the damage before I wrench my eyes upwards to finally see who's standing in front of me.

"Shit... am sorry love... was in so much of a rush I didn't see ya there! Ya drenched me!"

It's him. I can tell straight away after watching that video. Mousy brown hair long enough that it curls at his collar pushed back off his handsome face, blue eyes wide and bright as he peers down on me. He's wearing a slightly crooked grin that lights up his whole face and I falter for a second before I quickly re-gain my composure.

"I'm really sorry about that, you completely took me by surprise. It's Mr McCann isn't it? I was starting to think you weren't gonna show. I was just coming to see..." I trail off, letting my eyes wander down as he chuckles, brushing himself down. "Your jacket... I hope it's not ruined."

"Ahh, this old thing? Nah, it's fine, don't worry." He looks unbothered and I breathe an internal sigh of relief. "And it is me... you can call me Van though... and I guess you must be the amazing Miss Wilson I've been hearing so much about!"

My cheeks warm automatically and I laugh to cover my embarrassment, surprised when he sticks out a hand in a greeting. He's certainly charming enough and I remind myself sternly that we're here to discuss an important matter, not stand here exchanging pleasantries in the corridor.

"That's me!" I smile, taking the hand that he offers. "And seeing as we're on first name terms you can call me Sacha."

His large hand envelopes mine in a warm, firm handshake and I'm almost dismayed when he lets go.

"Sacha," he repeats, still grinning. "I tell ya, Gracie's always going on about ya. It's good to finally put a face to a name."

"Same here... Grace talks about you a lot too... her famous rockstar dad!"

"I hope it's all good," he replies and it's at that point my smile must slip as his face creases a little in concern as he steps back. "So... what's she been up to then?"

Here goes...

"Let's go and sit down and have a little chat shall we?"

[tired-biscuit]

My wisdom tooth is growing in and when I tell you I haven’t been in this much pain since I had an ear infection like 2 years ago. The left side of my face is literally throbbing

ouch, i have three that are all partially out but they (thankfully) never hurt that bad, they were more so annoying cos i could feel their presence if that makes any sense kdjfkdj...........

have you tried painkillers? i feel so sad for you, tooth pain is literally the worst!! hoping that you feel better soon <3